The Unlawful
by Tanith2011
Summary: The arrival of Marshall Slade McCoy throws Griff's life into turmoil. With Candy away from the ranch, who will he turn to when he is suspected of being involved in a crime he did not commit? Can Ben talk some sense into the Marshall and clear the ranch hand's name or will Griff's past continue to haunt him?
1. Prologue

_**AN: Dedicated to my Bonanza partner in crime, the very talented "Romirola".**_

* * *

The tall, lanky framed young man wiped the thin sheen of sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his oak shirt. Tilting his head, he listened to the sound of horses signalling the arrival of visitors to the Ponderosa. Six months working on the biggest spread in Nevada and Griff King was finally able to call it home. Sometimes he wondered what he would do once his parole term came to an end. While he craved for freedom and the luxury to make his own choices without asking for someone's permission, he felt safe for the first time in a long time. Here, he had made friends among the other ranch hands with whom he bunked with. Of course, it had taken time and all the patience he could muster to finally earn their friendship and most importantly, gain their trust.

Planting the pitchfork into the mound of hay, Griff made his way out of the barn, ready to greet the visitors and tend to their horses. It was a routine he had grown accustomed to in recent weeks and he fell into it with ease.

"Griff! I'd like you to meet Marshall Slade McCoy and his associate, Mr. Howard," Ben Cartwright called out heartily, just as the lad walked out of the barn.

The patriarch of the Cartwright clan may as well have ploughed Griff in the gut with his own fist as instant recognition met the young man's blue eyes. Still, he put up a brave front, pushing his insecurities and fear aside as he strode out to meet the Marshall and his companion. _Please don't remember me._ He extended his hand as he figured it was the polite thing to do and hoped that he would at least be given a reprieve from the judgemental prejudices that he usually had to endure each time he had the pleasure being in the company of a lawman.

"Griff King?" The Marshall raised his eyebrows as he shook hands with the young man.

"Yes, Sir," Griff answered with a nervous smile.

"Yes, I believe we've met," McCoy replied tersely.

"Oh? I had no idea you too knew each other," Ben chuckled, looking from one man to the next.

"Of course. I had the pleasure of bringing him in after he almost committed a murder. Ain't that right, Griff?" McCoy leered, clearly enjoying making the former convict uncomfortable.

"Slade, Griff here is on probation and he is under my employ. He's been nothing but a model citizen. Whatever he did is in the past," Ben cut in firmly but not unpleasantly. Slade was an old friend but Griff was a man who had atoned for his past mistakes and deserved a second chance. He wanted to make it clear where he stood. "Why don't you and Mr. Howard come in and I'll have Hop Sing fix us some tea. I'll have Griff look after your horses."

"If you don't mind, Ben, I'd rather Mr. Howard take care of our horses. They're a little nervous around strangers." McCoy handed the reins to his surly associate.

"I understand. I'll have Griff show Mr. Howard the stables and where he can water the horses. Griff, if you don't mind?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Cartwright," Griff replied, all the while measuring up Mr. Howard who stood almost as tall as himself but broader in stature. He definitely wasn't the type of man that one would mess around with. He also didn't strike Griff to be the kind he could engage in small talk which suited him fine as the young man preferred to keep to himself at times like these.

Mr. Howard gave Griff a quick and contemptuous once-over before following him into the stables, the reins of both horses clutched in his hands.

* * *

Once in the stables, chose a place to rest the horses. Out of habit, Griff reached up and started to unsaddle one of the mares when a vicious and calculated blow caught him in the side. An involuntary cry of pain and surprise escaped his lips as his knees buckled and he fell to his knees, clutching his ribs. He looked to see 's face inches from his own.

"Didn't ya hear the Marshall? Keep yer filthy hands off the horses, ya dirty con!" Mr. Howard spat before straightening up and rubbing his knuckles. "Move it!"

Griff slowly rose to his feet, breathing unsteadily. His hand curled into a fist, ready to strike but Candy's voice of reason held him back.

Mr. Howard laughed cruelly. "Just you try it, kid. It'll be my pleasure to put a hole in yer belly. No one's gonna be lookin' for yer body cause there ain't no one gonna care what happens to a con. Not even the Cartwrights."


	2. Chapter 1

_**AN: Just wanted to thank all my readers :-) Apologies for the delay in updating.**_

* * *

The Oriental cook poured two cups of tea; one for his employer and the other for their guest.

After thanking Hop Sing, Ben then turned his attention to his friend. "It's been how long, Slade? Twelve years?"

"Fifteen, but who's countin' right?" McCoy chuckled heartily.

The two companions sat down and placed their steaming cups down on the table.

"So what brings you all the way down to Nevada?" Ben asked curiously.

"Unfortunately, business. I'm after a gang of bank robbers. Mr. Howard tracked them down this way."

"If there's anything my sons and I can do…"

"Appreciate it, Ben, but I think we got it under control. Speaking of which, I really should get going. I sent a wire to Sheriff Coffee a few days ago so he'll be expectin' to see me." McCoy reached for his tea and took several sips.

Ben leaned forward in his seat. "Listen, where are you stayin'?"

"I figured we'd check in at a hotel in town."

"Slade, we have plenty of room here on this ranch. You and your associate, Mr. Howard are welcome to stay. In fact, I insist," Ben offered with a smile.

"That's mighty generous of you." McCoy paused and rubbed his chin as he mulled Ben's proposal over. "Well, if it really isn't too trouble to put us up for a few nights?"

"You're both welcome to stay as long as you need to. I'll have my sons prepare the guest rooms for you."

Not a moment too soon after Ben's holler, Joe and Jamie raced down the stairs and happily greeted their visitor.

McCoy stood up and shook hands with Joe then Jamie. "Little Joe, your hair is longer than the last time I saw you! Other than that and a strong grip you got there, not a whole lot has changed. And Jamie? Ben, have you been holding out on me when you send me those letters over Christmas?"

Ben laughed and said, "No, nothing like that. Let's get you settled and we can go over the revised Cartwright family tree over supper later. What do you say?"

"I say it looks to me you've got a story to tell!" McCoy gave Ben a friendly slap on the back and winked at Jamie who shyly blushed as Joe ruffled his hair. "I'll go fetch Mr. Howard and let him know our arrangement. Thanks again, Ben."

"Don't mention it," said Ben. Little did he realize the trouble that was brewing and the impact that McCoy's arrival will have on the Ponderosa.

* * *

Griff's day went from bad to worse, when he fell behind in his chores and ruined his shirt. Still shaken up but not willing to admit it, the confrontation with Howard replayed in his mind throughout the day. He looked down at his torn and filthy shirt and shook his head. He was going to have to invest in another one but who knew when he would get the time to go into town. He rummaged in his sack and found a clean shirt. Shedding out of his dirty one proved to be a task in itself. He was weary and sore all over. He looked down at his tender side and winced at the sight of the angry bruise on his skin from where Howard had punched him that morning. He quickly dressed when he heard voices and laughter outside the bunk house.

The door opened revealing to Griff's utmost surprise, Howard, flanked by the guys he bunked with each night. They were laughing and carrying on as if they were long-time friends of Howard's.

"Hey, Griff! We was just tellin' Mr. Howard here how you whooped us in a game of poker last Friday night. Ain't that right?" Lucas called out jovially.

"Yeah, guess I did," Griff replied with a forced smile.

"Well, maybe he and Griff should…" Jake started to suggest that the two men should have a play-off but Howard, to Griff's relief, declined.

"Oh, that's mighty temptin' but I have an early start to the day tomorrow and the Marshall will have my hide if he catches me staying out late tonight," Howard responded with a grin.

"Ain't that a real shame," Griff muttered, locking eyes with Howard's steely gaze.

"What's that, boy?" Howard asked, cupping his ear mockingly.

"I said, that's a real shame," Griff repeated in a stronger voice. He knew he was risking riling up the man but he didn't care.

Howard let out a laugh that didn't reach his eyes. A round of goodnights followed. Griff made his anger and dislike known by turning his back on Howard without another word. Amid the commotion no one noticed the tension between the two men. Howard smirked and left the bunkhouse, vowing to teach the ex-con a valuable lesson when the opportunity presented itself.


	3. Chapter 2

**AN: To my Danish reader Kirsten, whom I can't thank through a PM, thank you for reading my story and for taking the time to leave me some feedback. I felt sorry for Griff on the series too and I wanted to expand on his experiences or the experiences he could have had as he tried to fit back into society through my stories. I'm glad you found this fandom and are enjoying the wonderful and diverse selection of stories on offer by many talented writers.**

 **Many thanks goes out to all of my readers who are following this story.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Once Grace had been said by young Jamie Cartwright, the men at the table dug into their meals heartily. It had been a long day for everyone. Ben had worked on the payroll with Joe while Jamie was taken out to the range by Candy to help the hands with the fences and tending to a sick foal. The Marshall and Mr. Howard had gone into town as planned and spoken with Sheriff Coffee about the outlaws who were on the run. Wanted posters were placed on order to be printed the next day and distributed throughout town by the Sheriff's deputies.

"Mr. Howard, are you like an assistant Marshall?" Jamie asked between mouthfuls of roast beef.

"That's a good question, Jamie. No, my ambition is not to become a Marshall. I'm more of a tracker and I guess you could say I help protect Marshall McCoy. In his line of work, a second pair of eyes and ears can never be taken for granted," Mr. Howard explained.

Jamie nodded thoughtfully.

McCoy looked up from his plate and caught Ben's eye. "How're Adam and Hoss doin'?

Ben smiled as he fondly talked about his sons. "I'm glad you asked, Slade. As a matter of fact Adam's in Seattle. He's staying on shore for the next few months and planning to travel down through Oregon to Virginia City. We hope to see him in the summer. Hoss is spending some time in San Francisco with the Henderson sisters. I promised their father Cole, that I'd lend him a guide to take the girls around and make sure they were safely brought back home. He's due to be back in a few days."

"I still can't believe how much time has passed since I last seen your boys. You must be so proud, Ben. And you have an addition, I see, in young Jamie here."

"A blessing he is to all of us from the moment he first came into our lives nearly two years ago," Ben said proudly, beaming at his adopted son.

"I think this calls for a toast." McCoy raised his glass, inviting the table to join him. "To family."

A chorus of, "to family", followed.

"Speaking of family, Aaron must be of age by now?" Ben pondered aloud.

"He'll be twenty-one in a month's time. We're planning to celebrate back in Montana. I'd be delighted if you could all join us. You too, Mr. Canaday," McCoy proposed.

"Please, call me Candy. And I'd be honored to go if it's alright with Mr. Cartwright?" Candy met his employer's eyes.

"Of course, you're a part of this family now, Candy. We'll be there, Slade." Ben beamed.

"It's settled then!" McCoy clapped his hands together then resumed eating his meal.

* * *

Hidden in the shadows across the street of the Wells Fargo Bank in Virginia City, two young men waited anxiously as their accomplice snuck out of the bank's back door and hurried toward them. The youths crouched down behind some barrels in an alleyway and covered their ears. A deafening explosion rocked the town and showered the street with debris and shards from the shattered windows of the Wells Fargo Bank.

"Come on, let's go!" One young man instructed. He pulled up the bandanna that hung loosely around his neck so that it covered the lower half of his face. His two companions followed suit and together the trio withdrew their pistols. Concealed by the smoke and swirling dirt that choked the air, the men raced across the street and through the front entrance of the damaged building.

By the time the confused and disoriented townspeople wondered out into the street and converged on the burning building, the youths within had already filled their saddle bags and pockets with their loot.

"Hey! Stop right there, son!" A bar keeper in his nightgown yelled, raising his rifle and taking aim at one of the culprits as he tried to mount his horse. He fired a shot which missed its intended target dismally but hit the rider's horse. Before he had the chance to fire a second round, a bullet struck him in the neck, severing his carotid artery and killing him moments after his body crumpled to the ground.

With his leg pinned beneath the wounded thrashing animal, the youth tried desperately to free himself. "Aaron! Zeke! Help me!" He called out to his companions who turned back and pulled him free.

"Let's go! Let's go!" the youth known as Aaron shouted as he pushed his accomplice up into the saddle of his horse then climbed up behind him.

"Woohoo! We did it again! Yeah!" Zeke yelled triumphantly as he spurred his mount onward.

As fast as they rode in and claimed their booty, the riders galloped away into the night leaving a dumbstruck audience in their wake.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The next day, Ben Cartwright assembled the ranch hands outside the barn and rewarded them with their day passes which they could either use to go out into town or to stay on the homestead.

"Hey, Griff," Lucas nudged his friend with his elbow. "Wanna hit the town tonight?"

"Can't drink, remember? Parole?" Griff reminded him.

"Dang it! How long you gonna be on parole for anyway?"

The younger man shrugged his shoulders, his attention diverted to Marshall McCoy and Mr. Howard who were discussing something quietly between them. He was so rapt that it took Candy's hand waving in front of his face to break him out of his reverie.

"I was wonderin' where you had left to," Candy commented.

"Sorry," Griff mumbled, shaking his head.

"Listen, I wanted to ask if you could do me a favor?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"I know it's meant to be your day off but I have to leave for a couple of days. Mr. Robinson over near Reno needs some help with one of his fences. Could you go into town and take this package to Mrs. Walters store for me? She's expectin' it."

Griff looked at the tightly bound package, curiosity getting the better of him as he asked, "What's in it?"

Candy shuffled his feet, nervously. "Books."

"Books?" Griff repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, that's right. You know, _books_."

"I know what they are. I just didn't know you read 'em."

Candy shrugged and laughed. "Not as well as you but hey, I'm getting' there. Now, are you gonna return these for me or stand there gawkin', huh?"

"Yeah, I gotta go into town anyway and get me some new clothes," Griff replied nonchalantly and smiled, hoping that Candy couldn't see the disappointment in his eyes. He hated not having Candy around to confide in. He still felt like an outsider trying to fit in and each time Candy had to leave on business, he felt his confidence waning because he knew there was no one better than his best friend to keep him grounded. No one to guide him through his mistakes and to make things right again. Now of all times, with the Marshall staying for who knows how long at the ranch with his lap dog, Mr. Howard, Griff felt like a dark cloud had just settled over his head. All he needed now was the storm to brew and the rain to fall.

Noticing the youth was preoccupied with something that was obviously troubling him, Candy placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I just ah…just…," Seeing no other way around it, Griff blurted out what was weighing heavily on his mind. "How long does the Marshall have to stay here?"

All too familiar with the young man's discomforts whenever a lawman happened to be around, Candy replied in a low voice, "The Marshall's an old friend of Mr. Cartwright's. No, I don't rightly know how long he'll be hangin' around here for but he is staying as a guest. It's not like he'll be livin' here permanently."

Griff shuffled his feet uncomfortably, breaking eye contact with foreman.

"Griff, listen to me. He's not after you."

Griff's head whipped up, no longer able to contain his insecurities. "How do you know that?"

"Because, not every lawman that passes through here is going to be after Griff King!" Lowering his voice so as not to be overheard, he added in a firm tone, "No one is after you. _No one_. You hear me?"

Unconvinced Griff whispered harshly, "But he knows I'm on parole, Candy!

Candy threw his hands out in the air in exasperation. "So?"

"What if he was sent here to take me back to prison?"

Candy put his hands on his hips. "No one is carting you back to prison. You've done nothing wrong. Are you listening to me? You've done nothing wrong. Look, I'm only gonna be gone for a couple of days. By the time I get back, the Marshall will have gone and everything will be back to normal. Until then, just do your job, finish your chores and stay out of the Marshall's way. He's got more important things to worry about than you being on parole and probably already forgotten you exist. Okay?" He gave Griff's arm a friendly pat.

Griff sighed and nodded even though his worst fears were still hovering right beneath the surface. "Okay. Okay."

"Alright, I better get goin'. I'm gonna saddle up. I've got a long ride ahead of me and I wanna get to Reno before it gets dark. Sure you're alright?"

Knowing that whatever he said was not going change the fact that Candy had someplace else to be, Griff did his best to sound convincing. "Yeah, m'alright." He wanted to tell Candy about his run-in with Mr. Howard the previous day, but he clamped his mouth shut. He figured he was only going to sound paranoid and despite being reminded of it by the painful twinge of the bruise that Howard left on him, the last thing he wanted was to cause any trouble for Candy. He also certainly didn't want to appear like he was making a big deal over a small bruise that he could've easily gotten any other day working on the ranch.

"Good. You take care of yourself, you hear? I'll be back before you know it."

Leaving Griff alone to his thoughts, Candy ignored the uneasy feeling settling in his gut that his young friend was far from alright. Although Griff had made good steady progress to blend in at the Ponderosa and in town during the course of the months he had been out of incarceration, there was no denying that the process was slow going and frustrating for himself and for Griff, as well as for Ben Cartwright. Still, there was no way they were going to quit on the boy, not after the months they'd grown to know him and saw him trying his damndest to fit into society again. With a little more time and patience, Candy held on to the hope that someday soon Griff will finally find his place outside of iron bars and locks. Until then, he promised himself that he would do everything he could to help Griff adjust to his new found freedom and believe in himself the way others would if he could only find it in himself to let them.


	5. Chapter 4

_**AN: Thank you to all my readers who have been following this story. I hope you'll continue to enjoy it as much as I have fun writing it. The next update may take longer to post, depending on RL. Apologies in advance.**_

 _ **Hope you're all having a safe and wonderful weekend no matter which part of the world you reside in.**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

The instant Griff rode into town, he knew something was wrong. A crowd could be seen gathered in front of the Sheriff's office. His chest tightened and he twisted the reigns through his hands until they were cutting off the circulation to his fingers. He took a deep breath, slowly loosened his hold on the reigns and pressed forward. As he drew closer to the centre of town, Griff tore his eyes away from the milling crowd and tried his best to look disinterested. _Just keep ridin'. Don't look. There's nothing to see. Just get to the bookstore._

When he reached the end of the street, the young ranch hand dismounted from his horse and tied the reigns to the post outside of the only bookstore in town. Clutching the package Candy had entrusted him to deliver, Griff pushed the door open and walked in. The tinkling of a bell alerted Mrs. Walters that she had a customer.

"Good morning, dear. How can I help you?" Mrs. Walters warmly greeted the stranger who had just entered her store.

Although Griff had accompanied Jamie and Ben to the store before, he'd never actually stepped foot inside it. There were very few places in town that he had visited and those were limited to the store where Mr. Cartwright had purchased his clothes, the general store, the sheriff's office and the post office.

"I…um…I came to return these," Griff stuttered. "M'am." He reached up and removed his hat.

Mrs. Walters, a kind, handsome woman in her middle years with jet black hair tied in a bun, smiled up at the youth and took the package from him. She pulled the bindings free and recognition crossed over her lightly creased features. "Mr. Canaday sent you?"

"Yes, m'am." Griff wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and started to back himself toward the door.

"You must be Griff!" Mrs. Walters beamed.

Griff froze where he stood. Usually when people remembered his name, it was because they associated him with his criminal past.

"Mr. Canaday's told me about you. Said I should be expectin' you to walk into the store one day."

"He did?" Griff said in a choked voice.

"He told me you liked to read. Is that true?"

Griff cleared his throat nervously. "Yes, m'am."

"Well, I have something that you may like. Wait here," Mrs. Walters disappeared between two rows of bookshelves.

Beginning to feel at ease, Griff's shoulders started to relax as he took in the library of reading material that lined the walls and shelves. He'd never seen so many books in the one place before. For the first time in days, a smile crept over his face.

"Here." Mrs. Walters returned, startling the young man out of his reverie. She let out a chuckle. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, dear." She held out a hard cover volume for Griff to take. "Go on."

"I can't. I…"

"It's for Mr. Canaday. I still owe him for fixin' the leak in the roof and for the chores he helped me with when Mr. Walters passed away. God rest his soul." A far-away look crossed over Mrs. Walters' features. With a slight shake of her head, she broke out of her trance and continued, "Since Mr. Canaday told me he was going to be away for a couple of days, why don't you read it first? Give it to him when he returns and tell him, it's his so long as he brings you back here next time." A broad grin broke out on her face.

"Thank you. I'll…I'll tell him." Griff took the book, placed his hat back on his head and backed away toward the nearest exit. "M'am." Before he could turn to open the door, it flew open and he fell back against a table, knocking down a vase.

"Watch it, kid!" A gruff voice barked. "Hey, ain't you that con livin'and workin' on Cartwright's ranch?"

Griff was too embarrassed and busy apologizing to Mrs. Walters and helping her pick up the broken pieces of the vase that he didn't quite catch the man's words.

The man reached down and roughly pulled Griff to his feet by the front of his shirt. "Are you deaf?"

"Gus! Leave him be," Mrs. Walters admonished. "You startled him, is all."

With one last contemptuous look at the youth, the burly, stubble faced man released Griff.

"What's goin' on out there, Gus?" Mrs. Walters asked, more to distract Gus from the young man than to be a busy-body.

"A gang blew a hole outta the Wells Fargo late last night. Sheriff won't tell us how much of our money they got away with. Killed Cooper too. Shot him in the neck!" Gus relayed in disgust.

Griff took the opportunity to try and leave the store unnoticed but a vice-like grip on his arm stopped him in his tracks.

"Did you have somethin' to do with it, boy? You know there's talk on the streets about ya. Even Clem don't trust ya and I don't blame him!" Gus snarled into the youth's face.

Griff's patience was running thin and his fear was morphing into anger. He stood his ground and locked eyes with Gus, letting the older man know he was not going to be intimidated.

"Now hold on a minute, Gus. I'll have none of this talk in my store. Let the boy go on his way. He's done nothing wrong." Mrs. Walters continued to defend Griff.

The door opened once more, revealing a bespectacled face of a blond teen. "Hey y'all better come out quick. Sheriff wants to hold a town meeting right now!"

Griff let out the breath he'd been holding and visibly relaxed when Gus released his arm.

"We ain't finished, boy," Gus sneered before leaving the store.


	6. Chapter 5

**_AN: Sincere apologies for the lengthy delay in updating. RL had other ideas of late. Thank you to my readers for their ongoing support and patience._**

 ** _Tanith_**

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

With his head down and his pace kept at a fast stroll, Griff guided his horse through the town centre, keeping as close to the shadows of the buildings as possible to avoid unwanted attention. However, as he passed a street corner, curiosity got the better of him and he turned his head ever so slightly toward the gathering of townsfolk outside the sheriff's office. It was clear that the atmosphere was a combination of outrage and mourning. Right now, this was a hazardous place for an ex-con. Just as Griff tore his gaze away from the congregation, his body collided into something who gave a squeal of fright. Caught by surprise, the young ranch hand also gave a yelp and nearly lost his balance. He looked down and felt his heart skip a beat. A pretty young woman was propped up by her elbows on the ground. If she hadn't been glaring at him, Griff thought she had the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen. With a blink, he pushed away his thoughts and cleared his throat then reached down and offered her his hand. "I'm sorry, m-m'am. I didn't see you."

"Of course not. You really should pay more attention to where you're going, Mister!" The lady snapped waspishly.

Embarrassed, anxious and irritated by the young woman's lack of empathy, Griff clamped his mouth shut to refrain losing his manners. It quickly became apparent that she wasn't going to accept his apology or his attempts to atone for his mistake but before he had the chance to retract his arm, a hard shove from the side sent him crashing against his horse's flank and down on his knees. The startled animal snorted harshly and only Griff's quick reflexes saved him from its lethal hooves as it started to become unsettled. Rolling to his feet, he gripped the reins tightly and focused his attention on calming the horse down.

"You keep yer filthy hands off her, ya hear!"

Griff ignored the threat that no doubt came from the culprit who had pushed him to the ground. This is not my day. Again.

"Hey! I'm talkin' to you!"

This time, Griff felt the air shift behind him rather than saw the blow heading his way. Ducking his head, he easily evaded a fist, allowing him time to raise his own. Twisting his body around he struck the cowboy solidly in the gut and though he had the chance to strike again, Griff fought the urge to do more than defend himself. He stood his ground in a fighting stance, breathing heavily from the sudden adrenaline rush that pumped through his veins.

The crowd that had been milling around the sheriff's office had their attention diverted to the fight nearby when several of the younger men started to branch out to form a semi-circle around the scuffle taking place.

Two of the cowboys who arrived at the scene helped the young woman to her feet, but she shook herself away from them when they started to get too friendly with their molly-coddling.

To Griff's dismay, the woman wrapped a caring arm around his assailant's waist as he straightened up and gave Griff one last look of contempt before leading her man away from the small crowd of onlookers.

"Come on, Zeke, don't go startin' trouble on my account," the young woman said in a low voice so that only Zeke could hear. She tightened her grip on his arm but he pried her fingers off him.

"Don't you start tellin' me what to do, Betty!" Zeke snapped, silencing the young lady beside him.

The crowd had expected a brawl to break out and through their disappointment, two of the young men moved into the semi-circle, backing Griff's tall frame into an alley.

"Alright, break it up, boys! Troy, Levi, wanna tell me what's goin' on?" Deputy Clem Foster called out from behind the semi-circle.

"I'll tell ya what's goin' on. That con just attacked Zeke and Betty!" the cowboy named Troy retorted, pointing his finger at the dark haired youth.

Although Clem had his own personal misgiving regarding the circumstances of Griff's parole, Troy and Levi were well known troublemakers and it was highly likely that Griff wasn't at fault this time. "Is that true, Griff?"

Without a second's thought, Griff's anger got the better of him. "Yeah, that's right! Just like I near killed my step-father and robbed the Wells Fargo Bank and whatever other crimes this Godforsaken town wants to pin me for!"

A part of Clem wanted to hit Griff for his outburst at a time when tensions were already high but his conscience placed him in the younger man's shoes and he couldn't help feel a level of shame creeping up his neck. Turning his attention to the remaining onlookers instead, he ordered, "Alright, the show's over. Troy, Levi, go home. Go on!" Once the murmuring few had turned their backs and went on their way, Clem locked eyes with Griff.

"What? You're gonna arrest me?" Griff said heatedly.

"Go home, Griff," Clem replied with a sigh then walked away.

Griff dropped his gaze and it was then that he realized he had dropped the book that Mrs. Walters had given him at the store. Picking it up, he brushed off the loose dirt and slipped it into his saddle bag then mounted his horse. The morning's events weighed heavily on the ranch hand's mind and all he wanted to do was take a long ride before heading back to the Ponderosa; his main purpose for the journey into town abandoned. _Guess I'll just make do with the clothes I have, while I still have the freedom to keep 'em._


	7. Chapter 6

_**AN: Special thanks goes to my patient readers :-) I am trying my best to work on all my WIPs in all the fandoms I'm currently writing in and I'd like to thank everyone for their understanding when it comes to being time poor due to a demanding RL.**_

 _ **To Kirsten: Thank you so much for your continued support. I, and Griff, appreciate it ;-) I hope you'll enjoy this next installment.**_

 _ **This is for Questfan...**_

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

Nightfall arrived sooner than Griff had anticipated. He had ridden to the lake and basked in the solitude the wilderness provided. Away from accusing stares and words spoken to him in contempt, the young man felt at peace as he let the hours pass him by while he read the novel that Mrs. Walters had entrusted him to keep for Candy. Now with the sun dipping low below the horizon, he figured it was too late to ride back to the ranch and decided he would sleep under the stars. His stomach growled and he thought longingly about Hop Sing's cooking, realizing that apart from some beef jerky during the ride, he hadn't eaten since breakfast. With a sigh, Griff marked where he had left the story by placing a feather between the pages of the book then lay himself down under the tree and used his saddle as a pillow. It didn't take long for his tired eyes to droop shut.

Unbeknownst to the young man were a pair of eyes watching from a distance then disappearing into the night.

* * *

Slade McCoy paced the guest room in the Cartwright home until at last a knock on the door followed by Mr. Howard's voice greeted his ears.

"Well?" McCoy demanded impatiently once his associate entered the room and shut the door behind him.

"He's in the woods, sleeping under the stars. Didn't even bat an eyelid, stupid kid," Mr. Howard scoffed.

"That may very well play to our advantage. After all, who can vouch for his whereabouts but the wilderness? The more time he spends away from the ranch, the stronger the temptation will be for him to slip up and break the law. I know his kind only too well. And what of my son?"

"Hidin' out on the outskirts of town, probably waitin' for the rest of the gang to show up."

"Foolish boy!" McCoy cursed his son for the ill-fated choices he made in his life. Ever since the fever took away Aaron's mother, their relationship had been strained then over the last couple of years, the boy had started to find himself caught up in more trouble than McCoy could handle. He vowed to bring his son home at all costs and to straighten the boy out. If it meant that someone else would have to take the fall then so be it. Particularly when it was going to be someone who had cheated justice. After all, who would believe a con over the son of the US Marshall? McCoy thought darkly.

An unexpected knock on the door abruptly ended their conversation.

"Yes?" McCoy called out, politely.

Ben Cartwright poked his head in the doorway. "I'm sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting?"

"No, not at all. Please come in," McCoy reassured, although in truth he thought the rancher could've picked a more favorable time.

"I wanted to bid you both a good night and to make certain that the tack room is going to be sufficient to accommodate Mr. Howard." Making eye contact with McCoy's companion, Ben added, "Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay in Adam's room? It can get a little drafty in the tack room."

"Thank you, Mr. Cartwright. I'm grateful for your concern, however, I assure you I'd be more comfortable in the tack room. Old habits. I grew up on a ranch just like this and I always slept better when I'm closer to the horses," lied Mr. Howard. In truth his sole purpose was to keep a watchful eye on one Griff Kinng. Staying in the ranch foreman's tack room allowed him easy access and a clear view of the ranch hands' bunkhouse.

"Very well. If you insist, I'll breathe no more word about it. If there's nothing else either of you need, I'll bid you both a good night. It's payroll tomorrow so an early start for me and Joe."

"Thanks, Ben. You've done us a great favor by accommodating us. Sleep well," McCoy returned the gesture with a friendly slap to Ben's shoulder.

"Good night, Mr. Cartwright," Mr. Howard followed suit. "And you too, Mr. McCoy. I best let you get some much needed rest."

"Yes, Mr. Howard, I think we have both earned it," Slade slyly returned the greeting.

Once Mr. Howard and Ben left the room, McCoy decided to settle in for the night. There was much to think about in relation to his son, but he knew he needed to be patient. He believed in the saying that all good things come to those who wait. With Griff King playing right into his hands, all he needed to do was keep his boy from making any more foolish mistakes; a hardship he was determined to overcome at all costs. He'd already lost his wife, Jane. The thought of losing the last link he had with his wife, not to mention the humiliation the family name would have to bear, was a consequence he could not live to endure.

* * *

Camped out between the rock formations away from the main road well outside of town, Aaron McCoy jumped up from his bedroll with his gun in hand at the sound of two horses approaching.

"Easy there, McCoy!"

"Don't call me that, Troy or I'll put a hole in ya!" Aaron hissed angrily. For the young man, McCoy was his father's name and he did not want to be associated with a man he bore a deep hatred for. His law abiding and seeker of justice father, Marshall Slade McCoy, was dead to him.

The sandy haired young man dismounted from his horse, ignoring the riled up youth. His companion, a heavier and taller cowboy also climbed down from his perch in the saddle.

"Where's Zeke?" Aaron demanded.

"Romeo's busy with that Allman gal. Said he'd meet us at first light," the larger youth answered. "You know, he's slowin' us down. Once we pull that job in Carson City, I'm goin' straight to Reno. I ain't comin' back to this town. If he wants ta come back, I say we cut our losses. I'm sick and tired of him telling us what to do while he sleeps in that big house and we're stuck out here. Besides, it's only a matter of time before the law catches up to us if we keep on comin' home after a job."

Aaron nodded in agreement. "Only a matter of time before Allman finds out his daughter's bedding a good fer nothin' cowpoke. It'll serve him right too."

"Well I ain't gonna wait that long! Allman's blind as a bat when it comes to Betty."

"What are you sayin', Levi?" Troy questioned suspiciously.

"Tomorrow, I'm gonna set the record straight. Zeke's gonna have ta do things our way from now on or there's gonna be an extra share of the loot for the rest of us. Do either of you have a problem with that?" Levi proposed none too kindly then added, "Cause I've had it!"

Uncomfortable with the way in which the direction the conversation was taking, Troy reluctantly shook his head. "I'm with you."

All eyes turned to the dark haired youth.

An evil smile pulled at the corners of Aaron's mouth. "Why wait till tomorrow?"


	8. Chapter 7

_**AN: As always I'd like to thank my readers for reading my story. I took advantage of as much time as I could to work on this over the weekend and managed to write a slightly longer chapter than usual. I hope you'll enjoy this next installment.**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

With her father away on business in San Francisco, Betty Allman took advantage of his absence to invite Zeke Dayton into her home. While Zeke was known for his short fuse so was her father. There were several occasions when she'd been on the receiving end of both men's temper tantrums but as long as she steered clear and did as she was told, they left her alone. She believed they loved her in their own ways and that was all that mattered to her. Zeke had even promised to marry her whether her father gave his permission or not. As they lived in sin she held on to that promise, afraid to lose Zeke if she didn't. Though she knew her decision cost her her dignity, she didn't think there was anything she wouldn't do for the man she loved. She just wished people would understand, especially her father.

As she lay in her bed, snuggled in Zeke's strong arms and listening to his heart beating a steady rhythm, Betty could've sworn she heard a noise downstairs that sounded like glass breaking. A thump startled her and with a gasp she sat up and tried to rouse Zeke.

"Hmm? What?" Zeke mumbled, his eyes still partially closed.

"There's someone downstairs!" Betty whispered urgently. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it would leap out of her ribcage.

Zeke immediately acted. He threw away the covers and bolted out of bed. He quickly pulled on his trousers and shirt then drew out his gun from the holster he'd hung over a chair. He pressed a finger to his lips, signaling Betty to stay in the bedroom and to remain silent. Tucking his pistol into the waist band of his trousers, he lit the lantern on the bedside table and carried it with him while he carefully turned the door knob in his other hand. Walking out into the hallway, Zeke left a frightened Betty behind.

With his pistol drawn and cocked the young man crept down the creaking staircase. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, however, he tripped over what could only have been tripwire placed deliberately across the last step. He dropped the lantern and fell hard on all fours, his gun going off as it hit the floor. A vase shattered from the bullet's impact. Before he could rise to his feet, something collided heavily with the back of his head and everything went black.

* * *

Betty flinched when she heard a shot coming from downstairs shortly after a dull thud. Trembling from head to toe, she climbed out of bed and put on her robe then felt her way toward the door. She pulled it open then used the wall to guide her toward the stairs. Step by step, she descended the staircase, holding on to the banister and breathing unsteadily as a rising panic took hold. When she reached the bottom, she could make out the outline of a body lying on the floor between her and the front door which was wide open. She knelt down and could see by the moonlight that filtered through the doorway that the prone body was that of her beloved. A sob rose from deep in her throat as she used all her strength to turn him over onto his back. "Zeke? Zeke! Please wake up. Zeke!" She shook him by the shoulders hard but he remained unmoving. Just a lifeless shell. Betty buried her face against his chest and squeezed her eyes shut. Where his heart had been beating earlier, the only sound she could now hear was her own anguish as pain filled sobs wracked through her, threatening to tear her apart.

* * *

The sun rose, staining the sky in its orange hue and bathing the land with its warm glow. Griff guided his horse into the stable then headed for the bunkhouse to change his clothes. He'd taken a dip in the lake that morning before riding back to the ranch. Although he was feeling refreshed after a good night's sleep, his stomach growled with hunger pangs but he figured it was probably too late to ask Hop Sing for some breakfast. As he entered the ranch hands' sleeping quarters, the young man was greeted by Lucas and Jake.

"Morning, Griff," Lucas yawned. He'd just finished tugging on his boots. "Say, where were you last night? You never came back from your ride into town. Jake and I had a wager goin' on, ya see."

"What kinda wager?" Griff asked curiously, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Lucas exchanged a toothy grin with Jake who gave Griff a sly wink. "We was wonderin' if ya found yerself a new friend. A _lady_ friend, that is."

Griff raised his eyebrows and shook his head, however, he couldn't stop himself from blushing at the mere thought of himself being in the company of a lady under intimate circumstances. "Well, unless you count the bugs I slept with, whoever placed their bet on me being in the company of a lady will have lighter pockets."

Lucas and Jake's laughter were joined in chorus by the others who were listening in on the conversation.

A series of friendly banters followed, allowing Griff to forget about the events of the previous day.

"Mr. Cartwright's goin' into town with Joe this mornin' so we have to make a good start on breakin' them new horses that came in yesterday," Lucas filled Griff in on their duties. Since Candy was away and Joe had to go into town, the Cartwrights had left Lucas in charge for the day.

"Sounds good to me," said Griff as he shrugged out of his shirt and pulled on a fresh one.

"Hey Jake! Since I lost that wager this mornin', I might just make you a new one. I'll wager Griff will break Tornado faster than he did Dynamite!" Lucas challenged.

"Tornado? I can't believe ya already started namin' 'em. Alright, you're on!" Jake sealed the deal by shaking Lucas's hand.

"Hey, what about me? Don't I get a say in this?" Griff pretended to be put out.

"That depends. How much are you bettin' kid?" a ranch hand by the name of George quipped. He gave Griff a hearty slap on the back and laughed out loud.

"You guy are really somethin' you know that?" Griff smirked.

"Come on, boys, let's go. We got a lotta work to get done today!" Lucas urged the group to make haste.

Griff began to follow the others out of the bunkhouse when the appearance of the Marshall's associate dampened his spirits once again.

"Morning, boys," Mr. Howard greeted the ranch hands who filed out of the bunkhouse.

Griff drew a deep breath and hoped to be ignored, however, the older man stepped forward and barred his way. The young ranch hand looked past Mr. Howard to see if he could catch someone's attention, but they'd already disappeared around the building to carry out their duties. Straightening up to his full height, Griff wanted to give the appearance that he was not intimidated.

Mr. Howard on the other hand could sense the youth's unease and he decided to capitalize on that. He continued to press forward, forcing Griff to step back through the doorway.

"Mr. McCoy as some questions he'd like to ask you. Why don't we start with where you were last night?" Mr. Howard interrogated.

"Well, you can tell Mr. McCoy that I'll answer his questions when he cares to ask them himself," Griff replied, unable to contain his sarcasm. He kept his eyes locked on Mr. Howards, but the man wore an unreadable mask.

"I'll be sure to pass on your message. In the meantime, I'd mind your manners, boy," Mr. Howard threatened.

"It's Mr. King or Gri-"

Mr. Howard's hands shot forward and grabbed fistfuls of Griff's shirt then swung the young man face first against the door frame.

Griff's mouth and chin connected sickeningly with the wooden edge. His vision spun and his mouth filled with a metallic tasting substance. He swayed and fell to his knees in a daze. He coughed and spat out the blood that had started to accumulate in his mouth. Reaching up, he held the back of his hand against his lips which were numb to the touch.

Mr. Howard crouched down so that he was eye level with Griff. "You listen to me, boy. I'm keeping a close eye on you. You take one step out of line and I'll know about it. Next time I ask ya a question, you better be more cooperative or things are going to get mighty uncomfortable for ya."

As much as Griff wanted to retaliate, he refrained. Once again, Candy's voice of reason rang in his ears and he found himself wanting to direct that anger at his friend for not being there for him when he needed him. Glaring at his adversary, Griff would have let loose a few more choice words but his swollen lips weren't cooperating.

"My mother always told me that if you can't say something nice then don't say anything at all. I'm glad to see you're finally taking some sound advice." Mr. Howard mocked. He straightened up then turned away and walked calmly out of the bunkhouse.

The anger bottled up inside Griff reached boiling point. He rose shakily to his feet and looked for a means in which to release it. Grabbing a nearby chair within his reach, he threw it against the wall then overturned the table, scattering the chess pieces all over the floor and upending the other chair in the process. With nothing else within his reach to break apart, he ran outside and headed straight for the stables when a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Griff?" Lucas called out. "Hey, where ya going'?"


	9. Chapter 8

_**AN: Hope my readers and fellow writers had a wonderful Christmas...Happy New Year and may 2016 bring many blessings to all.**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

Griff reluctantly turned to face his friend. It was hard to believe how far he and Lucas had come since he had first set foot on the Ponderosa. Initially, there was a degree of animosity between the two men, with each suspecting the other of committing a crime. However, once the misunderstanding was cleared up, they were able to move past their differences and over time they found they could call each other friend rather than foe.

Lucas took one look at the younger man in front of him and his brow creased with worry when he saw the blood running down his chin. "Griff, what the hell happened?"

"Nothin'," Griff grumbled and started to walk away but Lucas caught up to him and grabbed him by the arm.

"That sure don't look like nothin' to me," Lucas winced as he studied Griff's face. When no response was forthcoming, he steered him toward the water pump. "Let's get ya cleaned up huh? Come on."

Griff relented and allowed Lucas to help him wash the blood from his face.

Lucas handed Griff his neckerchief to stop the bleeding. "Wanna tell me who did it?"

Griff shook his head then cast his eyes down.

"Well why not?" Lucas demanded. "I thought we was friends."

Griff was taken aback by the hurt in Lucas's last words. His raised his head and looked into the other man's eyes. "We _are_."

Lucas nodded and offered a small smile, though he wasn't ready to drop the matter. He'd seen the changes in Griff's mood in the last couple of days and wondered whether the Marshall's arrival or Candy's temporary departure had something to do with it. Whatever the reasons, he couldn't help feeling like the younger man he'd befriended didn't trust him enough to share what was troubling him. No matter how much time they spent together out in the fields, playing cards or chess in the bunkhouse and jested with one another, everyone knew that the only person Griff ever seemed comfortable opening up to was Candy. It just seemed unfair to Lucas that the effort to make Griff feel like one of the _guys_ was one sided. What did he and the others have to do to prove to their young friend that he could trust them? That they wouldn't judge him like others would?

"Are ya in some kind trouble?" Lucas asked slowly, hopeful that his friend would tear down the walls he was hiding behind.

Griff drew a shaky breath and was about to reply when the sight of Mr. Howard lurking near the barn, clearly eyeing them, stopped him. "No, nothing like that. I tripped, that's all." The last thing he wanted was to cause any trouble for Lucas.

Lucas's smile faded from his face to be replaced with an expression that was nothing short of disappointment. "If ya don't wanna tell me, fine. Just don't treat me like I'm dumb by lyin'." The rancher shouldered his way past Griff, shaking his head.

"Lucas!" Griff called out but it was too late. Kicking at the dirt in frustration he followed the older man at a distance. There was no point in trying to keep up when it was clear that Lucas was done listening to him.

* * *

Deputy Clem Foster led the distraught young woman into his office and sat her down in the wooden chair in front of his desk. It was early in the morning but fortunately for Betty Allman, he had gone into the office before dawn. He'd had a restless sleep with the recent bank robbery weighing heavily on his mind. It was going to be another week before Sheriff Coffee was due back to Virginia City from his travels to Reno so the responsibility fell solely on his shoulders to protect the town. He poured some water from a pitcher into a glass and placed it on the desk in front of the young lady. "I'm very sorry for your loss, Miss Allman. Is there anything else you can tell us about what happened?"

"No, it was dark. I couldn't see…I'm sorry," Betty sobbed into her handkerchief.

"Can you think of anyone who would want to harm Zeke?" Though in Clem's personal opinion he assumed that list would be rather long considering the cowboy's reputation, he kept his feelings to himself.

Betty shrugged her quaking shoulders then looked up with a gasp.

"What is it, Miss?" Clem motioned for the young woman to continue.

"There…there is someone."

"Go on."

"That con staying at the Cartwright ranch!" Betty's eyes blazed as she recalled the confrontation that took place between her Zeke and this Griff King near the town square yesterday.

"And what makes you think he's responsible?" Clem questioned. He had a feeling Betty was now just trying to stir the pot.

"Mr. Foster, you saw him yesterday! He knocked me down and he hit Zeke!" Betty scathingly replied.

"If yer talkin' bout Griff King, that's not the way I heard it happen!" Clem leaned forward in his seat and jabbed his finger on the surface of his desk impatiently.

Betty clamped her mouth shut and twisted the scrunched up handkerchief until the fabric nearly tore between her fingers. She sat in silence, glaring at the acting Sheriff.

"I'm sending a telegram to your father to hasten his return. Is there anyone who can stay with you in the mean time?" Clem decided it was going to be a waste of time and tears to continue the interview. It was obvious where Betty and half the town stood when it came to former convicts. Admittedly, he couldn't fault them for it. He knew he still had a hard time placing his trust on Griff King regardless what the Cartwrights saw in him. It made his duty all that much harder when here he was, forced to defend someone who should be serving out the remainder of his time in prison. That was the difference between him and the Sheriff. After everything he'd seen and been through, it was remarkable and perhaps foolish that the old man was still determined to see the best in people. Clem hoped for the Sheriff's sake that such a mindset wasn't going to be his down fall.

"Mrs. Pembleton has kindly offered me to stay with her," Betty said stiffly.

Clem nodded. "Very well. I'll take you to her manor."

The sound of a throat being cleared at the door way interrupted the discussion. "That won't be necessary."

"Marshall?" Clem stood up and greeted the man at the door. He felt slightly ill at ease and annoyed by the way the Marshall had allowed himself in and not bothered to knock.

"My apologies, Clem. I couldn't help but over hear. The Pempletons are on my way and I have a carriage waiting."

"That's very thoughtful of you, Marshall." Clem thanked the Marshall and bade the young lady goodbye. He stood up and walked them out the door then offered his hand to help Betty board the carriage.

Betty reluctantly accepted Clem's hand but she kept her eyes averted from his. Overwhelmed with grief and anger, she wanted nothing more than to leave the Sheriff's office. What was the point of a lawman if he couldn't even uphold the law and bring justice for Zeke's murder? She thought bitterly as the carriage door shut after the Marshall had boarded.


	10. Chapter 9

_**AN: Apologies for the longer than usual wait to update this story. My muse has been playing in other fandoms but I reigned her in today and managed to churn this out. Thank you to all my readers and reviewers. I appreciate the continuous support.**_

 _ **To Kirsten: Thank you for your review...things may not look so great for Griff, but rest assured, he will get through this and live to tell another tale ;-)**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

Mrs. Walters hung a closed for lunch sign at the door and locked the store. She had several errands to run in a short space of time and with no one to help her at the store, she had no choice but to close the business. Her first stop was the post office and then she needed to buy some groceries. As she stepped off the curb to cross the alley, she couldn't help over hear raised voices to her right. Not wanting to pry in someone else's business, she refrained from turning her head but kept walking. Unfortunately the argument had already spilled into the alley.

"I'm just sayin' that maybe ya shouldn't have killed Zeke. Who know's what Betty's been tellin' the sheriff about us," one of the two young cowboys said.

"Well she better not be mouthin' about us or she'll be joinin' him!" A second voice argued.

Mrs. Walters wished she had not heard the conversation but it was too late to turn back or cross the street. She just had to keep going as if she had been day dreaming and pray for the best.

Aaron quickly gestured for Troy to keep silent as they watched Mrs. Walters walk by them without a glance in their direction. Aaron instinctively started to follow the woman when Troy's hand gripped his arm, stopping him. "Wait! Leave her be. I don't think she paid any attention to us. She's always got her head stuck in the clouds." Troy hissed.

Aaron reluctantly slunk back into the shadows. "You better hope you're right."

Mrs. Walters' heart thudded in her chest as the ill-boding conversation replayed in her mind. She had recognized the voices and feared they had committed a heinous crime. Now she was faced with a responsibility that could endanger her life. She knew she had to do what she felt would be the right thing and that was to report the matter to the deputy. Not wanting to arouse suspicion, she maintained her pace at a casual stroll and entered the post office as planned. She collected her mail with trembling fingers from the clerk and avoided his concerned gaze.

"Are you alright, Mrs. Walters?" Mr. Avery asked worriedly.

"Yes, of course. It's silly really. I've not had anything to eat today. What, with so much to be done and all," Mrs. Walters laughed nervously then bade Mr. Avery a good day. As she made her way to the door, she peeked through the windows and breathed out a sigh of relief when there didn't appear to be anyone suspicious waiting for her outside. She hastily walked to the sheriff's office, almost tripping over the steps of the veranda.

Once inside the sheriff's headquarters, she shut the door behind her and stumbled over to where Deputy Clem Foster was standing.

"Whoah, Mrs. Walters, you're shaking like a leaf. Are you alright?" Clem asked with genuine concern. He had caught the woman by the shoulders and looked into her eyes which had misted over with tears of fear.

"Oh Clem! I've just heard….the most awful thing today. I don't know what to do! Please…" Mrs. Walters was now on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Let's go to my office," Clem said as he gently guided her by the elbow to the privacy of his office. He sat her down in front of his desk and poured her a glass of water. Perched on the edge of his desk, he waited for the distraught woman to calm down. "Let's start from the beginning. What's been troubling you so, hm?"

* * *

Mr. Howard's mistreatment of him coupled with his earlier fall out with Lucas weighing heavily on his mind, Griff's concentration lapsed to a dangerous level. His last attempt at breaking Tornado resulted in him almost being trampled under the horse's hooves. Only George's quick reflexes saved the young ranch hand from a fate neither wanted to comprehend. Fed up and annoyed with Griff's inability to focus on the task at hand, Lucas's hand latched on to the lanky youth's arm and he pulled him aside, away from the others.

Once they were outside of the enclosure, Lucas called back. "Frank, you're up next!" He then turned on Griff. "What're ya doin', tryin' to get yerself killed huh? If your head's not screwed on straight, then ya shouldn't be here."

"Fine, I'll leave!" Griff retorted breathlessly. A sharp pain shot through his side from his last fall but he refrained from clutching at the injury. He turned away from Lucas, his heart aching with the notion that he had just lost a friend.

Lucas reached out and grabbed a fistful of Griff's shirt then roughly yanked him backward. "I'm not done talkin'!"

Caught off guard, Griff gasped in pain and hunched over himself.

Lucas's anger mingled with concern when he saw the younger man was clearly in some kind of bother. He pulled at Griff's shirt and lifted it up to confirm his suspicion. While most of the bruises on Griff's body were fresh and probably were the result of being thrown from Tornado on more than one occasion that day, he could see an older bruise, the size of a man's fist planted low on the ranch hand's side. Between the suspicious looking injury and the newer one to Griff's face, Lucas was certain they were the results of someone beating on him and he was determined to find out who was behind the assaults. No matter how angry he was with Griff for his foolishness, he couldn't find it within himself to turn the other cheek when his friend was caught up in some kind of trouble. Even if Griff didn't care to admit it.

Griff shrugged himself out of Lucas's grasp, feeling humiliated for letting his guard down.

"If you're not gonna tell me who did it, then you're gonna have some explainin' to do to Mr. Cartwright," said Lucas lowering his voice.

"Leave it alone, Lucas. I don't need you or the Cartwrights to fight my battles!" Griff snapped, his temper flaring.

Lucas shook his head. He was at wits end. "This can't keep goin' on."

Griff drew a deep breath to reign in his anger, only to start coughing as his aching chest protested the action. "It won't." Raising an internal barricade to shield himself from Lucas's intrusive stare, he looked him in the eye, silently pleading for him to drop the issue.

Lucas nodded, though he was far from ready to let things go after what he had seen. "Clean yourself up. You're done for today." He wanted to add, _I'll check in on you later_ , but he figured it would probably push the young man further into his shell.

Griff nodded in gratitude for being excused. Sullenly, he walked back to the ranch, feeling Lucas' eyes burning a hole through his back.


	11. Chapter 10

_**AN: To all my readers: thank you so much for continuing to read my story.**_

 _ **Kirsten: It's always a pleasure hearing your thoughts so thank you. I'm going to expand on the friendship between Lucas and Griff. We saw very little of them bond but enough for me to think they may very well have become good friends had they been given the chance on screen.**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

Bone weary and feeling utterly miserable, Griff kicked at the clumps of loose dirt as he trudged back to the stables. If his company and help wasn't wanted by Lucas and the other hands then at least the horses mightn't object. Just as he reached the door, a hand landed on his shoulder and he spun away out of reflex.

"Whoah! Easy there, Griff," Joe Cartwright chuckled. "What's gotten you so spooked today?" The laughter died on his lips when he saw the markings on Griff's face. "Rough day breakin' them horses?"

Griff nodded. "Yeah, I just….um…you're back early."

"Yeah, Pa's still in town. He's got a few more things to take care of but I figured I better get the paperwork for the new horses ready. Mr. Litterman is picking them up in a week and I'm heading over to Carson City day after tomorrow," Joe explained then when he noticed the faraway look in the young man's eyes, he added, "You alright, Griff?"

Griff shook his head to clear it of its musings. "Yeah, just tired, is all."

"Let's go to the house. I'll fix us a drink and your pay for the week. Whaddya say huh?" Joe gave the younger man a friendly slap on the arm.

"Sure," Griff replied as he followed Joe up to the main house.

When they reached the front door, a cart could be heard riding toward the house. Their initial reaction was to turn around and greet the visitors. Joe walked up to where the cart was pulling in while Griff lagged behind when he saw who it was riding on the cart. Marshall McCoy. Not far behind was none other than Mr. Howard, perched in his saddle.

Griff decided it was his cue to leave as he watched Joe conversing with McCoy. He turned to walk away quietly when Joe called out his name.

"Griff? Hey Griff! The Marshall wants to talk to you for a minute!" Joe called out then turned to face McCoy once again. "So what's this all about?"

"I just need to ask the boy a few questions is all. I know you're busy. This won't take long," McCoy pleasantly but firmly insisted. He climbed down from the cart and followed Joe to the front door where Griff stood waiting nervously.

"Let's go inside. I'll make some tea. Hop Sing's in town getting some supplies for the pantry," Joe invited both men into the house then left them alone so they could have some privacy. The Marshall's manner and tone didn't give him a reason to think that whatever he had to ask Griff was of a serious nature.

Griff started pacing in front of the lawman, his blue eyes fixated on the empty space ahead of him. He refused to look the Marshall in the eye, his gut clenching with anxiety.

McCoy studied the boy for a moment before he said, "Why don't you sit down. You're making me nervous."

Griff stopped his pacing and turned to face McCoy. "Say what you gotta say, Marshall. I've got places to be!"

"Is that so? Where've you gotta be, boy?" McCoy leered. "Your gang's hideout perhaps?"

"I don't know what ya talkin' about," Griff responded. His palm were beginning to sweat. He wiped them on his pants. He wasn't at all comfortable with where the conversation was heading but there was little he could do to stop it. Once again, Candy's voice echoed in his head. _Just cooperate._

"You don't, do you? Where were you last night and the night before last?" McCoy interrogated. His tone darkened.

"I was sleeping!" Griff snapped.

"Where?"

"Bunkhouse night before last. You can check with the guys."

"And last night?"

"Under the stars."

"I don't suppose the squirrels can vouch for ya?"

Griff gave a theatrical shrug and a smirk. "Guess you'll have to ask 'em." Beneath the sarcasm, the ranch hand feared for what was to come. His heart thudded hard and fast in his chest, threatening to break free.

"Then I guess you'll be comin' with me to the sheriff's office." McCoy moved forward as Griff stepped back.

Joe returned from the kitchen with a tray laden with porcelain cups, sugar and a pot of tea. Seeing the tension and hearing the raised voices, he quickly settled the tray down on the nearest table. Jamie had chosen that moment to hurry down stairs to investigate what all the commotion was about. Joe caught the youngster by the shoulders and motioned for him to stay put by the staircase, ignoring his questioning look.

McCoy made a grab for Griff who stepped out of his reach and shoved the Marshall away.

The lawman lost his balance and fell onto the sofa. He bounded back up to his feet and reached for his gun. "Hold it right there!" He commanded threateningly.

"Hey, what's going on?" Joe called out as he lunged forward and stepped between the Marshall and Griff.

Jamie watched the scene, confused and afraid. He started to edge forward, wanting desperately to help diffuse the situation but not knowing quite how he was going to intervene without making matters worse. He chewed his lower lip, battling an inner struggle.

"Out of my way, Joe!" McCoy growled, wrestling his way past Joe. He drew out his pistol but Joe grappled for control of the weapon.

Griff took advantage of the distraction to escape out the front door but the sound of a shot being fired stopped him. At first he thought the bullet had found its mark but he felt no pain and he was still standing and breathing. It was Joe's anguished cry, however, that pierced his heart and froze him to the core.

" _Jamie!"_


	12. Chapter 11

_**AN: Thank you to all my readers and reviewers. I'm afraid I'm going to be a little mean to poor Griff over the next couple of chapters. I hadn't intended to be so unkind when I first started writing this story but my muse clearly had other plans. Again, Kirsten, I do assure you, it will end well for Griff.**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

Time seemed to be at a standstill for the briefest of moments as the shock of young Jamie Cartwright falling to the ground registered to the occupants of the room. Joe was first to break out of the spell and he raced to where his young brother lay writhing on the floor. A small whimpered, "Joe!" escaped the teen's lips. He knelt down, frantically looking for the source of the blood that stained Jamie's shirt and coated his trembling fingers as the boy held them up in front of him. With a relieved sigh that expelled heavily from within Joe's body, he removed the neckerchief from around Jamie's neck and tied it around the youth's upper arm where the bullet had penetrated the flesh. "You're okay." He ran his fingers through Jamie's hair and gave him a weak smile of reassurance. Even though the injury didn't appear to be life threatening, Joe could not find an exit wound and knew that the chances of infection was very high the longer they delayed removing the bullet and leaving the wound untreated. He looked up from his ministrations and said, "Griff, I need you to fetch Doc Martin."

A stunned McCoy had momentarily forgotten Griff's presence as he watched Joe see to his brother. He was a father himself and never meant for any harm to come to the youngster who now lay on the ground bleeding from a bullet that came from his own gun. Joe's instruction however had brought his attention back to the young man he had been about to apprehend.

"He's not goin' anywhere except the jailhouse!" McCoy said.

"Haven't you done enough already? Jamie needs a doctor," Joe yelled heatedly. In a voice of forced calm, he added, "Go on, Griff, no one's gonna stop you."

Griff nodded and turned to hurry out the front door when it burst open with the appearance of Mr. Howard. With no chance to back away, Griff felt the air explode from his lungs as Howard drove the butt of his rifle into the young man's gut. The ranch hand crumpled to the floor, unable to breathe.

"That's enough!" Joe shouted. He stood up, glaring as he advanced at the stocky man standing over Griff. McCoy flung his arms out and barred Joe's way.

"Joe, Mr. Howard is just doing his job," McCoy defended.

"Beating an innocent man is his job, is it?" Joe shot back. Friend of his father's or not, Joe was not going to allow McCoy to abuse his power.

Griff tried to raise himself off the ground but a vicious kick to the ribs brought him back down.

Joe struggled against McCoy who restrained him.

"S-stop!" Jamie cried out.

All eyes turned to the teen who now started to rise shakily to his feet. McCoy's conscience got the better of him when he saw the pain and fear in Jamie's eyes. While he felt no sympathy for the ex-con, it didn't sit right with him to subject the younger boy to witnessing Mr. Howard inflicting violence on his prisoner. After all there would be ample opportunities for his associate to make King more compliant. With a sigh, he ordered Mr. Howard to back down. "That's enough. We want something left to hang."

Joe was at a loss for words to express his outrage over the brutality that a man who called himself a friend of his father's was outwardly displaying. Torn between wanting to protect Griff and to get help for his brother, Joe felt the odds were against him on the former so he refocused on the latter. "Jamie needs a doctor," He said firmly, gripping the front collar of McCoy's black shirt.

"Joe, you have my word that I'll send for one soon as I reach town with my prisoner," the marshal replied, locking eyes with Ben's son.

"On what charges are you dragging him to jail for?" Joe demanded icily.

"Murder for starters. Armed robbery for another," McCoy listed.

"What proof do you have that he was even involved in these crimes?"

"I've got all the evidence I need, including a witness who saw King fighting with the victim just hours before he was killed! Now unless you want to dig that bullet out of your brother's arm yourself, you best leave Mr. King to me. The boy's already lost a lot of blood."

While Joe had some basic skills in removing bullets, he would rather Doc performed the surgery to save Jamie from the risks of infection and hopefully any more unnecessary pain. Reluctantly he released his hold on McCoy who straightened his shirt.

"What the hell is goin on here?" Lucas, who had heard the shot on his way back to check on Griff had rushed through the front door, now took one look at his friend lying curled up on the floor then at the menacing figure of Mr. Howard standing beside him. "What did ya do to him?"

"Lucas," Joe diverted the relieving foreman's attention to himself. "The Marshall and Mr. Howard are here to arrest Griff."

"What? That's crazy. No way Griff did anything they said he did!" Lucas's attempt to reach Griff was stopped by a meaty hand planted firmly against his chest. He swatted the hand away but Mr. Howard's hulking figure did not budge.

"Lucas!" Joe called out, not wanting the ranch hand to escalate the situation.

"Joe, I just wanna see if Griff's alright," Lucas asserted.

"I know. Lucas, I need you to listen carefully and do as I ask. I want you to go with the marshall and Mr. Howard to the jail house. Make sure Clem is there then fetch for Doc Martin and find my pa. Tell him to meet me at the sheriff's office. I'll ride out soon as Doc has seen to Jamie."

"That won't be necessary," Mr. Howard drawled.

"That is quite alright, Mr. Howard," McCoy conceded. He figured the Cartwrights would soon realize they were only wasting their time helping a condemned man so why bother argue over a trivial matter.

Joe gripped McCoy's arm and glowered at him. "They had both better not be harmed along the way or else my father will be the least of your worries!"

"Don't you threaten me boy! You're being mighty foolish getting yerself and your family involved with good fer nothin cow pokes like him!" McCoy pointed at Griff.

It took every ounce of self-control for Joe to reign in his anger and let the comment slide.

"Get the prisoner on his feet," McCoy ordered his associate.

Howard reached down and grabbed a handful of Griff's shirt then yanked him roughly to his feet. "Get up. On your feet boy!"

Griff was unable to contain his pain filled groan as the bruises to his body protested from the rough treatment. He caught Lucas's eye and shook his head slowly to stop him from trying to intervene with the arrest.

Lucas felt helpless as he watched Howard twist Griff's arm cruelly behind his back and marched him out of the house. Joe looked on in dismay before tending to the wounded Jamie.

Once outside, Griff was forced to climb onto the cart.

"I'll be right behind ya, Griff. You just hang in there. Mr. Cartwright'll sort this mess out, you'll see," Lucas said, trying to convince Griff as much as he was trying to convince himself. He then gave the two unlawful lawmen a glare before he mounted his own horse and waited for them to lead the way.


	13. Chapter 12

**AN: Once again, thank you for continuing to read my story.**

 **To my guest reviewer, Kirsten, thank you for your feedback (always appreciated). I'm not all that sure about law enforcement back in this era either but from some of the episodes I've seen, in particular one where a Marshall had arrested one of the hands, he had been really rough on the prisoner. There was, however, a twist in the episode where, unlike Griff in my story, the prisoner was indeed guilty of some horrible crimes and was trying to gain sympathy from the Cartwrights so he could escape. I don't recall the title unfortunately. Hope you enjoy my next installment!**

 **Tanith**

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

The ride into town felt like a journey into a nightmare that Griff wanted nothing more than to wake up from. The bumps jolted his injuries but he refrained from outwardly making his physical discomforts known to the Marshall. Psychologically, he felt himself beginning to unravel the closer they got to their destination. He couldn't shake off the image of Jamie bleeding out on the floor. Shot because of me. The bullet was not meant for him. He felt the guilt gnawing at his insides. If he had just cooperated, Jamie would not be needing a doctor. Griff pushed tried to push away his dark thoughts when the thought of spending the rest of his life behind bars made him feel ill. No, they'll hang me. He contemplated the many ways he could try to escape, though no matter which one he played out in his mind, they all ended with a bullet in his back. He started to suspect the Marshall could read his mind when he drew the horses to a halt and manacled the young man's wrists. The iron cuffs were tight enough to cause Griff enough pain that he couldn't suppress a wince but he kept his mouth shut and accepted his fate.

McCoy had thought about slowing down the journey to force Lucas to make a choice: stay at a slow trot or gallop onward so he could send for a doctor to attend to Jamie. He discarded the idea when the urgency of saving Aaron from the noose reminded him of what needed to be done. King's usefulness relied on him staying alive long enough to stand trial. While Mr. Howard was a loyal and efficient man, his tendency to be overzealous in his treatment of prisoners could do more harm than good in the present situation.

The trip finally came to an end outside the sheriff's office. Several curious onlookers stopped to investigate as the Marshall stepped down from the cart and pulled a young man down with him. The chains between his wrists rattled, drawing more unwanted attention.

Lucas tied the reins of his horse to the post outside the sheriff's jailhouse then followed the others up the steps.

Clem Foster stepped outside, confusion written on his face when he was met by the Marshall and the Cartwright's paroled ranch hand looking the worse for wear being escorted into the jailhouse.

"What's goin' on Marshall?" Clem questioned.

"I need a cell to hold this one in until it's time for him to meet the hangman," McCoy replied.

"He'll sit before a judge and jury first," Clem countered. He was not going to let McCoy think he was above the law.

"Clem, I gotta get the doc and find Mr. Cartwright. Griff's innocent," Lucas told the deputy.

"Doctor?" Clem was now concerned.

"Young Jamie's been shot. Joe's with him now," Lucas explained.

"You can blame it on this con!" Mr. Howard gave Griff a hard shove.

"I ain't the one who pulled the trigger!" Griff's anger got the better of him. Howard had touched a nerve. He wheeled around, facing his accusers.

Mr. Howard backhanded the youth hard. "Shut your lyin' mouth!"

Griff managed to stay on his feet and remained defiant. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked the deputy in the eye and reaffirmed, "I'd never hurt him! And you know that!"

"It's true, Clem," Lucas added.

"Your word will never stand up in court! You didn't see it happen did you?" Marshall shot back. This time, he lost control of his emotions. He was sick of the Cartwrights and their friends sticking up for the con.

Clem held up a hand to ward off any more arguments. "Alright, alright. Let me handle this, Lucas. Go get Doc Martin and I'll start sorting this mess out."

Lucas nodded and with one last look at Griff to let the young man know he wasn't going to be abandoned, he hurried to fetch Doc Martin.

Clem took hold of Griff's arm and led him inside.

Mrs. Walters, who had been sitting in Clem's office poked her head out and gasped when she saw the young man she recognized to be Griff King, being escorted into the jailhouse in such a poor condition and chained at the wrists. "Clem?"

"It's alright, stay in my office and close the door," Clem instructed.

"Not until you tell me why this young man is arrested!" Mrs. Walters protested.

"That's none of your concern, m'am," McCoy said dismissively.

Griff cast his eyes down, trying to hide his face from Mrs. Walters.

"Please, Edith, go to my office," Clem ushered the woman back into his private office then shut the door. He turned to take Griff to a cell when Mr. Howard maintained his grip on the young man's other arm. "This is my station. I am the law here. Now, unhand him and remove those chains."

McCoy gestured for Mr. Howard to unlock the manacles. "Let him do his job. It's not our place to disrespect the sheriff's deputy."

Mr. Howard pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the manacles from Griff's wrists which were badly bruised and swollen.

"Was that really necessary?" Clem demanded, pointing at the chain. He didn't approve of brutality when it came to the treatment of prisoners. Looking at the condition Griff was in, there was no doubt he was subjected to the Marshall's questionable methods.

"How I transport my prisoners are not your concern. I must protect the community as I'm sure you understand."

The hint of sarcasm in McCoy's voice was not lost on Clem but he wasn't going to press the matter. "Let's go." He led Griff through another door where two cells stood adjacent to one another. Grabbing the keys from the hook on the wall, he unlocked one of the cell doors. He took Griff's arm to guide him inside when he caught the look of horror on the young man's face. "Look, for what it's worth, I don't believe for a second you'd harm a hair on Jamie's head."

Griff nodded, still facing the inside of the cell. "They think I killed someone. And robbed that bank." Tearing his eyes away from the enclosed space, he continued, "I didn't do it!"

Clem let out a sad sigh. He had never taken too kindly to Griff's release into Ben Cartwright's custody but he found himself believing that the ex-con was unjustly blamed for something he didn't do. He wasn't sure if his own judgement was clouded by his misgivings over the Marshall's lack of respect for the law but he was willing to give Griff the benefit of a doubt and to try to overlook his past mistakes. "If you're tellin' the truth, Mr. Cartwright will be sure to clear this up. But until then, you'll be a lot safer in here than out there."

Griff drew a deep breath to calm his nerves and overcome his fears of enclosed spaces but his stomach started to churn.

Clem caught the swaying young man by the shoulders. "Are you alright?"

"M'fine," Griff croaked. He reached out and gripped the iron bars to steady himself.

The door separating the cells to the main office opened. McCoy stood impatiently. "What's takin' so long?"

"Boy's not feeling real well. Give him a moment! " Clem snapped.

Griff clung to the bars as his knees grew weak and the nausea refused to subside.

"Can't ya tell, he's fakin' it? He's just like all the rest! They'll do anything to get out of goin' to jail. You're too soft!"

"And are ya gonna claim those marks on his face and wrists are fake too?"

"He was resisting arrest!"

"Think…gonna be sick," Griff moaned as his stomach heaved.

"Get me that bucket!" Clem pointed urgently at a metal bucket.

McCoy lazily complied.

Clem placed the bucket down on the ground just as Griff spilled the scant remains of his stomach contents.

The young ranch hand groaned as his bruised muscles contracted agonizingly. Pain stabbed through his ribs with each labored breath he took.

Clem patiently waited for Griff's stomach to settle down then with one hand gripping the back of his shirt and the other latched on his arm, he walked him into the cell. "Come on, let's lay ya down." He gently pushed Griff down on the bunk bed. "I'll be back with some water." Clem noted the youth's arms were wrapped protectively around his midsection and his shallow breathing, making him suspect his clothing was hiding other injuries. There was nothing he could about it now. Griff will just have to hang on until Doc could see to him.

The sound of the iron bars clanging together as the door was shut and locked behind him made Griff flinch involuntarily. He lay curled in a fetal position, facing the wall. The pain flaring up in various parts of his body he could tolerate but he felt powerless to bring his jail house fever under control. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to work through the fear that was like poison coursing through his veins.


	14. Chapter 13

**AN: Just a short update for now as I had a busy week but will write a longer one next installment. Thank you to all my readers and reviewers :-D**

 **Tanith**

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

After locating Doc Martin at his practice, Lucas wasted no time in informing him that he was urgently needed at the Cartwright ranch and that young Jamie had been wounded. Doc quickly packed his travel bag and rode out to the ranch while Lucas searched the town for Ben Cartwright. Fortunately for the ranch hand, his employer had just stepped out of the post office.

"Mr. Cartwright!" Lucas called out as he crossed the street.

Ben looked up in surprise when he heard his name. "Lucas? Is everything alright?"

A little out of breath, Lucas replied in a rush, "Joe sent me out to meet you. Jamie's been shot. He's okay. Doc's on his way to the house right now."

"What? Jamie? Where was he shot? How bad?" Ben frantically questioned as he made his way to his horse.

"In the arm. Bullet's still inside him," Lucas supplied then gripped Ben's arm and stopped him from mounting his horse. "Wait, there's more."

Ben wanted nothing more than to hurry home but the urgency in Lucas's voice warranted his immediate attention.

"The Marshall's arrested Griff. He's at the jail house. Joe told me he'll meet with you at the Sheriff's office," said Lucas.

Ben pursed his lips into a thin line. His worry morphing into anger as he listened to the level headed ranch hand. "What else?"

"That associate of the Marshall's, Mr. Howard, he's beaten Griff pretty bad. Probably been beatin' on him since he got to the ranch! Griff just kept quiet 'bout it," Lucas continued, feeling his own anger resurfacing.

Ben sighed heavily, trying to control his feelings. McCoy was an old friend and a guest at his home. He had expected more from him. Even if he wasn't the one who assaulted his employee, he obviously did nothing to stop it from happening. He was deeply disappointed but right now, he was concerned over the young man's welfare. With Joe insisting on riding out to the jail house to sort out the mess, and Paul riding out to the ranch, Ben decided that Griff needed him more than Jamie did right now. "Alright. Let's head on over to the jail house and sort this mess out."

The two men swiftly walked to the sheriff's office and before they even opened the door, they could hear Clem in a heated argument with McCoy inside.

The Marshall and deputy stopped hollering when Ben and Lucas walked in.

"Would one of you mind telling me what is going on and how my son ended up with a bullet wound?" Ben demanded tersely.

"I can explain, Mr. Cartwright," Mr. Howard piped up from his corner.

"Mr. Howard, I don't want to hear anything you have say. As far as your involvement is concerned, I've heard enough!" Ben thundered.

"It pains me to have to tell you that Griff King is nothing but a criminal practically living under your roof. I tried to get him to come in peacefully but he lashed out so I drew my gun to defend myself as any lawman has the right and authority to do. Joe foolishly interfered and Jamie ended up in the line of fire. It was an accident. You know I would never harm your boy, Ben. If you want someone to blame, he's sittin' in a cell right now where he belongs!" McCoy pointed his finger at the door leading to the holding cells.

"You didn't just arrest 'im! You…" Lucas shouted but a hand on his chest and Mr. Cartwright's look of disapproval stopped him.

"What are the charges?" Ben lowered his voice a notch and drew a deep breath to calm himself.

"Murder and armed robbery. He has no alibi and he was seen by a witness arguing with the victim. Let's not forget that a barkeeper, Mr. Kent, also lost his life the night the Wells Fargo was robbed. That counts as two murders," McCoy relayed.

"That's a lie!" Lucas glowered.'

"Vouching for a murderer makes you an accomplice!" Howard shot back.

"Lucas! Howard!" Clem stepped in between the two men who both advanced on each other.

The door leading into Clem's private office opened and Mrs. Walters walked out with confident strides. "Enough! I know who murdered that boy last night and it sure wasn't Griff King!"

All eyes turned to the middle aged woman who had her hands on her hips.

"What's this?" McCoy scoffed, looking Mrs. Walters up and down in disgust.

"Griff is innocent of the crimes you are accusing him of committing. If you want to know who killed Zeke Barker last night, you best find Troy Johnson and that friend of his from out of town. Aaron, yes, that's his name. I overheard them arguing earlier and quite frankly Aaron's got a mean streak in him!" Mrs. Walters revealed.

A muscle twitched in McCoy's cheek at the mention of his son's name. There was no doubt the woman was referring to his Aaron. While the others in the room didn't mirror his thoughts, Mrs. Walters' testimony was going to cause complications. Word would spread like wild fire and it wouldn't long before the town discovered the truth.


	15. Chapter 14

**AN: Still haven't gotten around to thanking all my reviewers personally and answering PMs so I do apologize but please know your feedback has been greatly appreciated and valued.**

 **A big thank you goes to all my readers. Here's another update for you!**

 **Tanith**

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

Doc tied off the bandage around Jamie's arm. "There! Barring infection, that should heal nicely."

"Thanks, Doc." Joe sighed, running his hands through his hair. He looked down at Jamie sleeping in his bed, pale but breathing. Doc had given him something for the pain and something to help him fall asleep when he first arrived. The teen was already drowsy and on the verge of losing consciousness from blood loss and shock so it didn't take long for him to fall into a deep drug induced sleep. It was a relief that he didn't have to endure the pain of having the bullet removed from his arm.

"Keep in mind, he's lost a lot of blood so he'll be weak and it will take a couple of days for him to get his strength back. You can give him one of these to help him sleep tomorrow and another one the next day. I'll come around and see how he's doing at the end of the week," Doc instructed, handing Joe a small bottle of pills.

Joe showed Doc Martin out the front, thanking him again, then gave Hop Sing the bottle of pills with strict instruction to watch over Jamie while he left to go over to the jail house. He hoped that Griff and Lucas had made it there without any more complications. He wasn't looking forward to explaining to his father what had transpired between their guests and Griff but the sooner he broke the news the better Griff's chances were of getting the help he needed.

* * *

With tensions high between the Cartwrights and McCoy, the Marshall decided it was best to stay in town that night. Reading his mind, Ben offered to have his friend's belongings and that of Mr. Howard's brought to the hotel they were planning on staying at.

"Perhaps it would be a good idea if Mrs. Walters stayed with us until this gang is rounded up and brought to justice?" Ben suggested to Clem.

The acting Sheriff nodded in agreement. "I was thinking the same thing."

"I don't wish to impose…" Mrs. Walters began but was cut off by Ben.

"You wouldn't be imposing at all," Ben insisted kindly then turned to Clem. "Now that we have cleared Griff's name, I want him released."

"Now wait just a minute!" McCoy intruded.

"For the sake of our friendship, Slade, don't push the issue. This has gone far enough! Now, if you'll all excuse me, I wish to see my employee," Ben pushed past McCoy and headed straight for the door leading to the cells.

"The way I see it, Ben, our friendship is over but this isn't! I will see justice prevail if it's the last thing I do in this town!" McCoy shouted before turning on his heel and storming out the front door with his associate not far behind him.

Clem shook his head in frustration then apologized to Mrs. Walters and followed a somber Ben to the holding cells.

A subdued Griff sat with his back against the wall and his face hidden in the shadows. His knees were drawn up to his chest.

"Griff, Mr. Cartwright's here to take ya home," Clem announced. He retrieved the keys from the hook on the wall and unlocked the cell door. "I'll wait outside."

"Griff?" Ben walked into the small cell and leaned down to take a look at the young man who remained in his cramped position. "Did ya hear from Clem said?"

The young man ran his fingers through his damp hair. "I didn't mean for Jamie to get shot."

"I know that," Ben said softly.

Griff still felt the urge to explain what happened. It wasn't right that young Jamie took a bullet over something that maybe he could've prevented. "I tried to run away. The Marshall..he…he… I don't know what happened next but I heard a shot and next thing I know Jamie was on the ground. I should've just gone with him. He said I killed someone and robbed the bank. I swear I didn't do any of it."

"Did you know who was killed?" Ben crouched down beside the bunk.

"I don't know who he was but we fought yesterday while I was in town returning…book for…C-Candy." A sharp pain lanced through Griffs side and his voice faltered.

"Griff, look at me," Ben coaxed. He placed a hand on the young man's arm and gently pulled him forward into the light. What he saw made the anger he felt for McCoy and Mr. Howard return tenfold. Griff's left cheek bone was bruised and his bottom lip was swollen and crusted with dried blood. His eyes travelled down to the boy's wrist. There was no doubt the other was in the same poor condition. He noted that Griff had an arm wrapped around his midsection in a protective manner. He locked eyes with the ranch hand's. "Let me see."

Griff drew in a hitched breath. "I don't know what you're talkin' about, Mr. Cart.."

Ben had had enough of Griff's mule-headedness and decided a direct order was needed to get through to the boy. "Don't you play games with me, you hear? Now, lift up your shirt."

Griff sat rigidly in his resolve under the older man's penetrating glare.

Ben decided to try a different approach. With a sigh, he straightened up and put his hands on his hips. "Let's go, Griff, unless you wold rather stay here?"

Griff's ears perked up at Ben's last words and he hastily slid out of the bunk. Rising to his feet, he was taken by surprise when Ben's hand shot forward and gripped his arm like a vice. Wincing, he tried to pull himself free but to no avail.

Ben ignored Griff's struggles and grasped the hem of the young man's shirt. He wasn't surprised to see the damage done to his torso when he lifted the material. Even in the poor light, he could easily make out the bruises that mottled Griff's chest and stomach. "How long has this been going on? I want the truth." Ben allowed Griff's shirt to fall back into place and released his hold on his arm.

Griff lowered his gaze. "Ever since they arrived at the ranch."

"McCoy and Howard?"

Griff nodded, still not meeting Mr. Cartwright's gaze.

"I take it you told no one?"

"No," Griff mumbled quietly.

"Hmm?"

"No, Mr. Cartwright," Griff repeated in a louder voice.

"Why?"

"Come on, who're you gonna wanna believe? A friend or…or a con?" Griff finally looked up and met the older man's eyes.

"You never gave us the chance to believe in you. I hardly thing that's fair. Do you?" Ben paused to let his words sink into the young man before him. "While I don't approve, I can understand why you chose not to tell me and maybe not Joe either but what about Candy? And Lucas? What about the boys at the bunk house?" Ben continued.

"I didn't want to give Candy a reason to stay when I knew he had places to be. And Lucas, the boys, I…I don't know why I didn't tell them," Griff finished lamely.

Ben could see the youth's pasty complexion and the pain in his eyes that reflected not only his physical discomforts but the guilt and confusion he must have been feeling over everything that had happened. He placed a steadying hand on Griff's shoulder and decided now was not the time and place to discuss Griff's misguided feelings. His injuries needed to be treated. He looked utterly miserable, exhausted and ready to drop. Ben's tone was stern but not unkind. "Let's get you home. We'll talk about this later."


	16. Chapter 15

**AN: Hello to my readers! Thank you for sticking with this story. I do apologize for the infrequent updates. I've had a lot going on in my RL recently but thankfully they are for the most part good things (for a change) - they just make me very busy :-D**

 **Special thanks goes to my two guest reviewers, "Fergus" and "Kirsten". Both of you posted well said comments on Griff's issues with trusting people.**

 **To my readers: It's been really nice to hear the things that go through my readers' thoughts as they read so thank you for sharing your opinions in reviews and private messages.**

 **Hope you'll enjoy this next installment...**

 **Tanith**

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

Outside the holding cells, Ben and Griff found Joe conversing with Clem and Mrs. Walters.

"How's Jamie?" Ben urgently questioned his son.

"He's lost a lotta blood but Doc said he'll be alright," Joe informed his worried father then turned his attention to Griff. "I'm sorry this happened to you. The Ponderosa is your home. You should have been safe there."

Ben placed a steadying hand on Griff's back, at a loss for words to express how he felt about the whole situation.

Griff nodded then flinched when the front door burst open.

Ben grasped the back of Griff's shirt to keep him from losing his balance. The boy was still clearly shaken.

Griff visibly relaxed when he saw it was Lucas at the door.

"Mr. Cartwright, I have a horse ready for Mrs. Walters," said Lucas.

Ben thanked the ranch hand. "Why don't you and Joe ride on ahead back to the house with Mrs. Walters. Griff and I'll be along soon."

Mrs. Walters' concerned gaze fell over the young man who stood meekly beside the Cartwright patriarch.

"Ben, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask Griff a few questions," Clem interjected.

"He'll answer anything you have to ask but not until Doc has seen to him," Ben responded neutrally.

"Of course," Clem replied then saw Ben, Griff, Joe, Lucas and Mrs. Walters out the door.

Griff was dimly aware of Joe helping Mrs. Walters mount a horse and Lucas's reassuring pat on his shoulder.

"Griff?" Ben took a hold of the young man's arm then led him away from the jailhouse.

* * *

For Troy Johnson, life had been simple. He worked odd jobs wherever work was needed but as a rule he never stayed long enough with the one employer that he'd be remembered. Everything he owned he carried with him. There were no complications. He earned his keep when he held a job and he got by when there was no work by winning at card games or stealing when he lost. He couldn't complain. Of course, there were times when the temptation to steal more than he needed became too hard to pass. Meeting Aaron and Levi then Zeke had changed his life for the better. At least that was what it had started out to be. The drinking, the robberies, the working girls and the rush he felt flowing through his veins became an addiction. Stealing and cheating at cards was not enough anymore. And who wanted to work for ungrateful ranchers who kicked dust in his eyes just because they thought they were better than him? What he didn't sign on for was the killing. It didn't sit right with him that Aaron and Levi seemed to enjoy it more than the money and the drinking. While he never really took a liking to Zeke, he didn't agree to kill him. Life had just gotten complicated. He spat the tobacco from his mouth and jumped at the sound of footsteps approaching. He whirled around, whipped out his six-shooter then sighed heavily when he saw that it was only Aaron and Levi. They had agreed to meet at the public stables to prepare leaving town. This time for good. Troy's deft fingers spun the gun before he holstered it.

"What's the matter, Troy? You're a little jumpy," Aaron laughed mirthlessly.

"I just wanna ride on outta here," Troy confessed.

"And we will but not until we fix a little problem," said Levi, leaning against a post.

Troy looked inquiringly at Aaron who had a well-placed smirk on his face.

"Y'know that book lady? Her store's still shut," said Aaron, an evil glint shone in his eye.

Troy's face turned ashen. "Damn it McCoy! What did ya do?"

Aaron lunged forward, grabbed a handful of Troy's shirt and shoved him against the wall. "I told ya, not to call me that! I haven't done anything to her but you should know her head's not stuck in the clouds no more. It's been buried in the sheriff's office all day with my Pa and that deputy!"

Troy swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. "Don't mean nothing."

"Oh no? Then why is she ridin' out with Joe Cartwright and their ranch hand as we speak, huh?"

Troy shrugged himself out of Aaron's grasp. "How the hell should I know?"

"All the more reason to pay caution to the winds, right, Levi?" Aaron turned to seek out the burly cowboy's confirmation.

"That's right, Aaron. Who know's what she's been tellin' Clem and the Cartwrights," Levi agreed.

"Not to mention the man who calls himself my father," Aaron spat. "Come on, let's get these horses ready and pay the Cartwrights a little friendly visit."

"Whoah, hold on! Wait a minute! You wanna go up against the Cartwrights? That's crazy talk, Aaron!"

"Why not? Word's out that two of 'em are away and Ben Cartwright's just an old man. I figure now's a good time as any to find out just how much they're worth," suggested Aaron.

"I thought this was about Mrs. Walters?" said Troy, his uneasiness growing by the minute.

"Of course. But why stop there?" sneered Aaron. "Whaddya say, huh? One more show before we hit the road? We may as well make it worth my Pa's time seeing as though he's sticking around a little while."

"I say let's do it," Levi piped up.

"Come on, Troy. It ain't like we gotta kill anyone. Just give the lady a little scare, ask her some questions and find out what he's been mouthin' off to that Deputy. Then we'll tie her up and let them Cartrwights know they ain't so high and mighty. We'll wait until it gets dark and cover our faces so there'll be no more slip ups." Aaron plotted.

All eyes turned to Troy who nodded reluctantly. "Alright. One last hit. No killing, right?"

"No one has to get hurt," Aaron smiled wolfishly. He felt that sometimes Troy was a little too yellow to keep stringing along. Maybe it was almost time to cut him loose just like Zeke.


	17. Chapter 16

**AN: Happy Easter everyone! Wishing you and your families many blessings and peace.**

 **A big thank you to those who have read and reviewed my last chapter - I appreciate the feedback.**

 **Some medical research was done regarding anxiety/claustrophobia during the era that Bonanza is set in which I have incorporated into this, however, I do apologize for any inaccuracies and will gladly accept any advice given by those with more knowledge in the field.**

 **Tanith**

* * *

 **Chapter 16**

Griff was thankful for the short walk to the doctor's practice. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable being stared at by the townsfolk the moment his feet stepped out of the sheriff's office.

Doc Martin greeted Ben and winced when he saw Griff's bruised face. Thinking his old friend was at the practice to find out more about Jamie's condition, he gave Ben his reassurance that his son would make a full recovery.

"Thanks, Paul. Could you take a look at Griff here. He's had a rough day," Ben gestured for the ranch hand to step forward.

"I've had worse," Griff said in a low voice.

"I don't doubt it, but nevertheless I need to know how fit you are for your chores tomorrow. We've a lot of work to do and I'd feel better knowing you'll get the tasks done in a timely manner and without endangering anyone. Is that understood?" said Ben who decided that by taking off the focus from Griff, the young man had the tendency to be more cooperative.

Griff nodded without argument.

"Alright then, Griff, let's go into my office shall we?"

"Go on. I'll wait here," Ben insisted.

Once inside the office, Doc instructed the apprehensive young ranch hand to sit on the examination table and to remove his shirt. Griff hesitantly complied and kept his gaze down at the floor. The room was rather small and while there were no bars, it still made his chest constrict.

The physician noted the bruising on Griff's torso and face as well as his arms and wrists. He knew the young man was Ben's ranch hand and it was likely his duties involved breaking horses. Although it was common to have the hands frequent his practice with bruises and broken bones, many years of experience enabled him to distinguish and differentiate injuries caused while working on a farm to those inflicted by fists and boots or blunt objects. Ordinarily, his usual patients were less nervous when engaged in small talk but it was clear Griff preferred to keep to himself and leave as soon as he could so he decided not to start a conversation with him.

Doc routinely checked his patient for any serious head injuries and winced at the deep cut Griff sustained to his lower lip. While the bleeding had stopped, the chances of developing an infection were high enough to warrant stitches. Griff stoically sat still, gripping the edge of the table while the physician cleaned then stitched the wound shut.

No stranger when it came to tending injuries left by prisoner restraints, Doc wrapped Griff's wrists in bandages to minimize the pain and temporarily restrict movement in case of any muscular tears that needed time to mend. Paul detected Griff's self-consciousness over the injuries, in particular the markings left around his wrists.

"Can I go now?" Griff finally looked up and pleaded as he pushed himself off the table and reached for his shirt, only to be gently stopped from escaping by a firm hand on his chest.

"Whoah, easy there, Griff. We're almost done. Just sit tight while wrap those ribs for you, okay?" Doc gave the youth a warm smile and pushed him back onto the table.

With a sigh, Griff relented and let the doctor palpate his sides and lower back. He winced but tried to hide his discomfort by turning his face away.

"You're lucky. Nothing feels broken," Doc surmised. His concern grew when perspiration started to run down the young man's face and his breathing quickened. "Griff? Would you like some water?"

Griff shook his head. He felt ill just like he did when he was about to be locked up in the cell.

"I'll open the windows," said Paul. He started to recognize the symptoms of what could be a medical condition that had recently been mentioned during his time at a medical conference in Reno. The trigger seemed to be incited by the fear of being trapped when a person was confined in a small space like a small room or prison cell. There was still little evidence to prove the condition existed but Griff wasn't the first person Doc had seen under similar circumstances so he was willing to keep an open mind.

A cool breeze filtered through the curtains and brought with it a calming effect over Griff. His breathing returned to normal and the nausea abated.

Doc's next concern was the angry bruise below Griff's ribs. Years of experience treating similar injuries led him to believe his patient was struck by an object, most likely the butt of a rifle. "Let's take a look at that bruise. I'm going to need you to lie down. This won't take long. And then you can go, okay?"

Griff slowly lifted his legs and lay himself across the cool surface of the table. He found himself staring at the ceiling and started shivering from the cold. He drew in a shaky breath just as cool hands pressed down on his stomach. The discomfort quickly heightened into pain.

"Just relax, Griff," Doc coaxed as he continued with his examination.

An involuntary cry escaped Griff's lips when the physician's ministrations found a particularly sore area.

"Sorry," Doc apologized with genuine sympathy. "I'm done, now. You can sit up and I'll wrap those ribs."

Griff carefully repositioned himself into a sitting position and shivered once more. He felt worse after being poked and prodded but he didn't want to voice his discomforts out loud. Years of abuse by his step-father and the mistreatment he received while he was in prison taught him to keep his mouth shut or things would get worse for him. Now surrounded by people who cared for his welfare it became a habit he found hard to break.

Paul worked quickly to wrap his patient's torso then poured him a glass of water.

Griff grimaced as he pulled on his shirt then accepted the glass from the physician.

"Let's get you back to Mr. Cartwright," Doc helped Griff off the examination table and walked him out of the room.

Ben rose from his seat, eager to hear the prognosis of his ranch hand. "How is he, Doc?"

"All things considered, he'll be sore for at least a couple of weeks. I've had to stitch that cut to his lip and he may have a slight concussion. There's a nasty bruise to his abdomen, four of his ribs are also bruised; one badly but nothing appears to be broken," Doc cataloged. "However, if the pain gets too severe, call on me."

"I see." Ben's frown deepened upon hearing the severity of the young ranch hand's beating. "What can we do for him in the mean time?"

"Bed rest is the best thing – at least for the remainder of the week. He could do with a decent meal and some sleep. I'll drop by the ranch and check on him in the morning."

"He'll get all the rest he needs. I'll make sure of it. One more thing, will he be alright to ride back to the ranch?"

"If he can stay on his horse."

"Then he'll ride with me. Thanks, Paul."

"Th…thanks, Doc," said Griff.

"Take care of yourself, Griff." Doc found he rather liked the young man and could not help feel sorry for his misfortunes.

Ben led Griff outside then took off his jacket and wrapped it around the young man's slender shoulders. For the first time since Candy had taken him under his wing, Griff felt the odd sensation of his heart swelling from such a simple gesture. The feeling passed, however, when he was steered back to the Sheriff's office once again.


	18. Chapter 17

**AN: Firstly, I just wanted to thank all my readers for sticking with this story.**

 **Secondly, I wanted to sincerely thank the "Guest" reviewer from my previous chapter for their helpful insight and historical advice on anxiety as a medical condition. I have made a minor adjustment to that chapter where Doc mentions the condition as I was not entirely happy with it from the moment I first posted the chapter - I hope it sounds better now :-)**

 **Thank you Kirsten for your feedback - you really hit on all the feelings I was aiming for when I wrote my story.**

 **Tanith**

* * *

 **Chapter 17**

The moment they had walked back to the Sheriff's office, Griff's mood darkened. He became fidgety, refusing to sit down until Ben grabbed him by the arm and reprimanded him. His less than cooperative attitude grated on Clem Foster's nerves. Nevertheless the lawman kept his questions brief and to the point. Despite the youth's insubordination he managed to summon enough patience to deal with him in as calm a manner as he could. He knew he had to keep in mind that Griff had spent a great deal of his teen years in prison surrounded by hardened criminals. It was no secret he had a difficult time adjusting after being paroled but it was no picnic either for those who were on the receiving end of his attitude.

The young man found it hard to meet Ben Cartwright's eye as he gave the deputy all the information he had on his whereabouts the past few days and what happened between him and Zeke that led their heated encounter. In truth, there was little Griff could offer and it frustrated him that he was still being interrogated and scrutinized like a common criminal. At least that was how it felt like to him.

There was one last question that Clem wanted to ask and it had more to do with whether or not McCoy had a personal grudge against Griff that could have an adverse affect on the way the Marshall handled the investigation.

"One more thing, Griff. What does the Marshall have against you? It's obvious he has some ill feelings towards you," said Clem, leaning across the desk and studying the young man in front of him.

Griff shifted in his seat. His muscles were so stiff they made his entire body ache fiercely. He cleared his throat and met Clem's gaze. "Why don't you ask him?"

"I will but I'm asking you first," Clem countered with a huff.

Griff let out a hollow laugh. "What's the point? You ain't gonna believe me over anything he'll say! He's the law ain't he?"

"Just answer Clem's question then we can be on our way." If it was one thing about Griff that Ben could not stand, it was his renowned recalcitrant attitude towards authority.

With a heavy sigh, Griff stood up and let loose on the deputy, "Well, maybe it has to do with the fact that when he was sheriff of Billings he was the one who dragged me to jail right after I beat my step father with a pick axe! And before you judge me, go ahead and ask me why I think he deserved it!" Pacing the room like a caged animal, Griff ran his hands through his hair, breathing unsteadily from the whirlwind of emotions raging through him.

"I read the trial transcripts when you were first brought to the Ponderosa. Whether your step father deserved it or not is not for any of us to decide. Just as it isn't up to the Marshall or his associate to decide if you deserved those marks on your wrists and face," said Clem.

"Griff, sit down," Ben firmly instructed but Clem held up a hand, gesturing to let the young man pace. It seemed to loosen his tongue and made him more tolerable.

"Has McCoy or Mr. Howard made any threats against you prior to these recent accusations?" Clem continued.

"Never met Howard until a few days ago but he sure let me know how they both felt about me being outta prison and workin' on the ranch," said Griff.

"How so?"

"Showed him where to take his horse and hit me from behind when I wasn't expecting it. And that ain't all he did. Been breathing down my neck, pretending to be friendly like with the boys at the bunk house."

"Should've told me about Howard," Ben cut in in a disapproving tone.

"Did he do that too?" Clem pointed at Griff's face.

Griff's hesitation to answer was confirmation enough for both Clem and Ben.

"Alright, I guess it's no use in me telling ya you should've been more forthcoming with Mr. Cartwright about all that's been goin' on. What's done is done. I just hope that, for your sake, you'll make more of an effort to trust people, particularly those who clearly still have faith in you. You can go. I'll deal with the Marshall when he returns. No doubt he _will_ and I'm sure he'll have his say in what he thinks is lawful and what isn't." Clem rose from his seat with a heavy sigh. "Ben, I think I have all that I need from Griff. You can take him back to the ranch."

Ben thanked Clem and shook his hand then replaced his hat on his head and guided Griff out the door.


	19. Chapter 18

**AN: I just want to send out a BIG thank you to all my readers out there for their ongoing support and patience. To those who were able to leave me feedback - I appreciate your thoughts and words of advice. I'm sorry I've not had a chance to respond to each of you individually.**

 **To my talented Bonanza writing buddy, "romirola", thank you so much for your undying patience as I attempt to get my act together for our future ventures. I don't know how you put up with me!**

 **"Honu59" - mahalo for sticking by me from fandom to fandom! You've been a real blessing!**

 **"Questfan" - It's a real honour to receive feedback from such a talented writer such as yourself. I've not been able to give your stories the attention they deserve but I look forward to reading your fine work when I get the chance. Thank you!**

 **"Kirsten"- As always your comments brighten my day and I thank you for your encouragement.**

 **"Keller12917" - I think Griff appreciates your insight into his character as do I. Thank you for your honest opinions and feelings - I hope to hear more of your thoughts as this story enfolds**

 **Tanith.**

* * *

 **Chapter 18**

The ride back to the Ponderosa was a torturous journey for Griff but one he endured without complaint.

The sun sat low on the horizon and would soon begin its inevitable descent.

Joe rushed out of the main house to greet his father and helped Griff dismount. He draped the injured youth's arm over his shoulder and Ben did the same at the opposite side. They could see the ride had taken its toll on Griff. Together, they supported the ranch hand between them as they walked him to the bunk house. When the three men reached the building, Lucas held the door open for them. Inside, the ranch hands were changing out of their dusty clothes after returning from a long day out in the fields. Heads turned when they saw the three men enter.

All eyes were on Griff, each man eager to hear how the youth was faring.

"Listen up, all of you," Ben addressed his employees. "I know you all have many questions but I ask that you hold off until the morning. It's been a trying day for all of us and Griff is in no shape to be interrogated."

A chorus of murmurs spread among the ranks but from the looks on their faces, Ben and Joe could tell they all respected their wishes and Griff's needs to be left alone.

"I'll take care of him, Joe. Mr. Cartwright," Lucas volunteered. He helped Griff walk over to his bunk. "You take the bottom until you're healed up, ya hear?"

Too exhausted to say much else, Griff nodded and thanked the Cartwrights and Lucas for lending a helping hand.

"Appreciate that, Lucas. G'night, fellas," Ben thanked Lucas and was about to leave the bunkhouse with Joe when Griff called him back.

"Wait! Your jacket," Griff started to shrug himself out of the heavy but warm tan coat but Ben waved him off.

"Keep it. I have another," Ben smiled.

"I don't…I don't know what to say. I mean….Thank you, Mr. Cartwright," Griff stammered, taken aback by the generosity and not quite knowing how to accept it.

"Get some rest. I'll have Hop Sing bring some broth," said Ben, quickly taking the awkwardness away.

Joe took advantage of his Pa and Griff conversing to pull Lucas aside. "Keep an eye on Griff tonight and pass the word on to the guys to take it easy on him. No tricks or messing about. I figure he's hurtin' more than he cares to admit."

"Don't worry, Joe. We'll take good care of 'im," Lucas asserted.

Joe gave Lucas a friendly slap on the back. "You're a good man, Lucas."

Once Ben and Joe had left the bunk house, the men gave Griff the space he needed to clean himself up and change his shirt. Only he had run out of clean shirts.

Seeing his friend's futile attempts at finding a shirt, Lucas rummaged in his own bag and pulled out a new one he'd received from his mamma. "Here, Griff."

"Oh no I couldn't!" Griff declined the offer, knowing that Lucas had been saving that shirt for when he had worn out his old ones.

"Come on. I don't much care for the color," Lucas lied.

"It's mighty generous of you, Lucas," Griff said in appreciation.

"Don't mention it. Say, you need a hand with that?" Lucas pointed at the bandage that Griff was trying to rebind around his wrists.

Griff cursed under his breath. "No, I can manage." Realizing his abruptness sounded rude, he added, "Thanks." Then he continued to fail in one-handedly trying to secure the wrapping.

Lucas pretended to preoccupy himself with the straps on his bunk bed but he watched over Griff from the corner of his eye.

Afraid he had offended Lucas earlier by declining his offer to lend a hand, Griff felt he owed it to him to make amends by making an attempt to place his trust in him. "Lucas?" He reached out and half expected Lucas to slap his hand away but instead, the older man gave him a toothy grin and proceeded to help him. Griff gasped when the bindings were pulled firmly into place.

"Sorry. How bad is it?" Lucas looked up into Griff's pain filled eyes.

"Doc said nothing's broke but I'm startin' to wonder if he was lyin," Griff joked weakly.

Lucas let out a chuckle. "I know the feeling all too well."

Surprising himself as much as he did Lucas, Griff felt the corners of his mouth turn into a smile. Both men turned their heads to the door when Hop Sing's heavily accented voice heralded his arrival.

George held the door open as the Cartwright's long time cook and his two kitchen helpers walked into the bunkhouse and placed a large steaming pot, two loaves of bread, some bowls, spoons and a pitcher of water on the table.

"Beef and potato stew. Come and get it!" Hop Sing called out then to Griff he pointedly said, "You too skinny. Two bowls for you." The Oriental cook proceeded to explain the joke in his native tongue to his two companions who chuckled then followed him out the door.

Griff turned a shade of pink while everyone else laughed as they gave him hearty pats on the back. Frank, who meant no harm, poked him none too gently in the stomach. Not wanting to let it be known that he was in pain, Griff suppressed a groan. The last thing he wanted was to be fussed over. He was grateful for Lucas's subtle intrusion when he started cracking jokes with the others so they wouldn't notice the discomfort he was in.

The hungry ranch hands either sat at the table, on their bunks or on the floor with their backs leaning lazily against the wall. Immersed in the jovial atmosphere, Griff even found himself forgetting the events of the past few days and he was relieved no one asked him any questions he didn't feel up to answering that night.

* * *

Not too far from the bunkhouse, three men broke out of their hiding positions from the shadows as they pounced on their unsuspecting victims. "Hands where we can see 'em and don't try anythin' stupid!" came the threatening command.

Hop Sing indicated for his two helpers to do as they were told. He swallowed as he felt the hard nudge of a pistol pressed into his back.

"Now, here's what you boys are gonna do. You're gonna take us back to your kitchen and then we're gonna surprise the Cartwrights and join them for dinner," Aaron McCoy ordered. "Git goin!" He gave the older and slighter man a hard shove.


	20. Chapter 19

**AN: Again, my gratitude goes out to all my readers. I'm glad you are still sticking to this story despite the S.L.O.W updates. It really means a lot**. **To those who had time to leave me a review - thank you so much. I really do appreciate the feedback.**

 **Tanth**

* * *

 **Chapter 19**

Dinner in the main house was quieter than usual with just Joe and Mrs. Walters who were joined a short time into their meal by Ben.

"How's Jamie?" Joe asked, worriedly,

"Well, I managed to get some stew into him before he fell asleep again," Ben replied.

"I hope whatever ails the boy is not serious, Ben," said Mrs. Walters in a consoling tone.

Ben gave the woman a warm smile. "Thank you, Edith." After a brief pause, he decided to elaborate further. "There was a misunderstanding today and Jamie was shot in the arm. It was an accident and he'll make a full recovery."

"Oh my! I'm sorry to hear that but I am relieved to hear he will be alright. Poor dear. It was only last week he came by the store to buy a book. Boy loves to read, bless him!" Mrs. Walters said fondly.

"Yes, he sure does, but I do wish he focused on his homework first and foremost," Ben chuckled.

Another matter weighed heavily on Mrs. Walters' heart and she hoped the Cartwrights will be able to put her mind at ease. "I understand your hired hand, Griff King, is serving out his parole on ranch. Is he...he's not going back to prison is he?"

Joe exchanged a glance with his father before addressing the subject. "No, he's not. He's staying right here where he belongs."

"Edith, I hope we haven't lost your trust in us," Ben began. For a moment he couldn't help but feel concerned that the kind woman was in fear of her safety while she stayed on the ranch. Ever since he assumed responsibility over the young parolee, his decision was met with animosity by a handful of townsfolk while there were others who believed the Ponderosa was no longer a safe place to visit.

"Of course not," Mrs. Walters insisted. She met Ben's warm gaze and offered a smile. "I'm quite fond of the boy. I just wanted to make sure he was alright."

Relieved, Ben reached out and squeezed Mrs. Walters' hand reassuringly. "I'm glad you feel that way. The boy can take some getting used to."

"Well, if everyone would give him half a chance," Mrs. Walters sighed. "How is he, Ben?"

"He's ..."

The sound of pots and pans crashing to the ground could be heard coming from the kitchen, disrupting the conversation at the dining table.

"Hop Sing? Is everything alright? Hop Sing!" Ben called out but no one answered.

"I better go see if he needs a hand," Joe excused himself from the table and made his way to the kitchen.

* * *

Looking out the window of the hotel room, McCoy scanned the streets for any sightings of Aaron or townsfolk behaving suspiciously.

"He's cleared outta that cave. I'm bettin' he's ready to leave this town," Mr. Howard speculated. He sat at the small round table, cleaning his gun and rifle.

"Not if I can stop him. I'm bringing him home this time, even if I gotta put a bullet in his leg," McCoy vowed.

"What about the others? They're not gonna come quietly," Mr. Howard continued.

"We're not bringing them in alive. My son still has a chance. He's all I've got left and I ain't losin' him. I'll straighten him out, you'll see."

"Then we have a problem."

"What d'ya mean?"

"That book store lady, Mrs. Walters. She'll recognize Aaron when she sees him."

McCoy's silence stretched on as he contemplated his options.

"Of course, accidents happen. I could lend a hand with that?" Mr. Howard proposed.

"It may not come down to such drastic measures but I will bare that in mind. Thank you, Mr. Howard. Your loyalty is held in the highest regard," McCoy complimented his grinning companion.

* * *

Hearing footsteps approaching the kitchen Aaron McCoy stepped out from the walk-in pantry and pounced on the unsuspecting Joe Cartwright. "Freeze! Don't make a sound!" He hissed and pressed the barrel of a pistol into Joe's back for emphasis.

Joe froze and tried to assess the unexpected predicament he was in. From the corner of his eye he saw a second gunman and knew his best chance of keeping his family and their guest safe would be to cooperate. After all, he was presently outnumbered and there could be others lying in wait. Before he could contemplate any further, a sharp pain exploded in the back of his skull and the last thing he felt was his knees buckling and rough hands grabbing him by the arms to stop him from falling and making a noise.

The two men dragged their unconscious victim into the pantry and lowered him to the cold floor. Their accomplice, Levi, held out two pieces of rope which they used to bind Joe's hands behind his back and tie his feet together. Leaning against the cabinets were three oriental men, each with their hands and feet secured the same way and a gag sealing their mouths shut.

"Gag him like the others," Aaron hissed.

Troy tore a dish cloth and tied it around Joe's face, making sure it was secured between the victim's teeth.

Leaving the hostages behind, the three intruders slowly crept toward the dining room to where Ben Cartwright and his guest sat enjoying their evening meal.

* * *

Although exhausted and feeling unwell, the pain in his stiff muscles and the pounding headache kept Griff awake as he lay flat on his back. He slowly turned onto his side and drew his knees up trying to ease the discomfort in his midsection.

"Hey, Griff? You okay?" Lucas leaned over the top bunk. He had deliberately kept himself awake waiting for Griff to fall asleep.

"Yeah, m'fine." Far from fine, Griff felt he needed some air. Rolling out of bed, he pulled on his boots, grimacing from the pain as he did.

"Ya don't sound like you are," Lucas whispered back amid the snores in the background. He swung his legs over the edge of the bunk and lithely hopped down, making a soft thump on the ground.

"Go to sleep Lucas. I told ya, I'm fine!" Griff hissed.

Even from in the dark, Lucas could make out the sheen of perspiration on his friend's face and hear his voice wavered. "And I'm Santa Claus!" Rather than argue with his stubborn friend, he grabbed his arm and led him outside.

"Lucas, what're ya doing?" Griff whispered.

"Going for a walk. Care to join me?" Lucas smirked.

The taller ranch hand rolled his eyes but took up Lucas's offer and followed him.

Once outside the bunkhouse, the duo started walking toward the gates to head out to the woods when something caught Lucas's eye. The barn door was ajar. Lucas was certain he had closed it.

"Darn, I coulda sworn I locked the barn. Wait here," said Lucas.

Feeling uneasy, Griff decided to follow just in case they had unwanted company hiding out on the ranch.

When they reached the barn, Lucas pushed the door open further. The sight of three unknown horses raised a warning flag. Trouble was on the Ponderosa.

"Are the Cartwrights expecting any visitors?" Griff asked uncertainly.

"No, they ain't. Those horses would be with the others in the stables if they was visitors," Lucas rationalized. "We better warn Mr. Cartwright. Come on!"


	21. Chapter 20

_**AN: Thank again to all who read and reviewed my last chapter. I'll respond to you individually soon.**_

 _ **Hope you'll enjoy this next update.**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

 **Chapter 2** **0**

Ben Cartwright's smile as he listened to Mrs. Walters' book review faded and his face blanched when three men armed with pistols sauntered out of the kitchen.

Edith stopped in mid-sentence when she caught the look of apprehension cloud over Ben's handsome face.

"Well, well, look what we have here," the youngest of the three men drawled. "If it ain't the mighty Ben Cartwright." Aaron McCoy circled the table and shoved his hostage back into his seat when he started to rise to his feet. "Na-ah. Don't even think about it. Ya ain't goin' nowhere, old man. Not until we've had a decent meal and enough money to get us far, far away from this wretched town."

Ben felt his stomach plummet as fear over Joe's well-being bubbled its way to the surface. "Where's my son? What have you done with him?"

"Your son? Ah, yes, Joe Cartwright. Last I checked he was still breathing. If you want to keep it that way, then you best do as I say!" Aaron threatened.

"Alright, if it's money, food, water that you want, you'll get it but you bring me my son and let him and the lady leave this house unharmed, right now!" Ben propositioned.

"Oh we'll get what we want, alright. Don't ya worry yourself none 'bout that," Aaron placed his hands on either side of Mrs. Walters' shoulders. A satisfied smirk spread across his face and his steel grey eyes glinted dangerously. "You know the road can be a lonely place for a man. And since we've already been briefly acquainted, I figured we'd get to know each other real well out there." Leaning forward, Aaron nuzzled his face against Mrs. Walters' neck, breathing in the fragrance of her perfume.

Edith turned her face away from the young man and raised her hands to push him away but her attacker enveloped his arms around her and held her tight.

"That's enough! Leave her alone," Ben demanded. He rose to his feet and glared at the cowpoke.

Aaron repositioned his gun and pressed the barrel against the bookstore keeper's temple. "Simmer down, Mr. Cartwright. Now, here's what we're gonna do. We're all gonna go to your office and you're gonna open that safe for us."

"Once you let Joe and the lady go, I'll give you what you want," Ben negotiated.

Aaron's eyes flashed angrily. "Listen, old man, and you listen real good! I give the orders around here!" He motioned for Levi to make his move.

The burly cowboy grabbed Ben Cartwright by his shirt and yanked him roughly out of his chair. He was met with enough resistance that he needed his accomplice to come to his aid. Together they forced the older man to his office with Aaron and his hostage not far behind.

Suddenly, a knock on the front door made everyone freeze in their tracks.

Aaron gestured for Ben to answer the door. "Get rid of whoever's outside or the lady gets it!" He held Mrs. Walters close to his body and held the gun to her temple once again. Dragging her with him, Aaron stood beside the door frame with his back pressed against the wall while his accomplices disappeared in the shadows.

* * *

Griff kept pace with Lucas as his friend hurried toward the main house. Lucas rapped his knuckles on the front door and waited, feeling more uneasy by the minute.

The door finally opened revealing the very person they needed to speak to. "Paul? Griff? Is everything alright?"

"We're not sure, Mr. Cartwright," Lucas began, puzzled that his employer had got his name wrong. From the look on the older man's face, it dawned on him that Ben Cartwright was not in the position to speak freely. Clearing his throat he quickly recovered and acted his part. "Actually Griff and I was just wondering if we could take the day off tomorrow. It's my birthday tomorrow so we're gonna ride out to see my ma and pa in Carson City. Is that gonna be a problem?"

"No, of course not. Joe and I are expecting Adam back tomorrow. Go on ahead, Paul. That's fine by me. You can take Griff with you," said Ben as if he were reading a script.

Lucas played along by thanking his employer then pulled Griff by the back of his shirt and turned away. "Nice and slow," he murmured under his breath.

As soon as they heard the door shut behind them, Lucas steered Griff toward the stables. "Let's go!"

The two ranch hands raced toward the stables and didn't look back. Once inside, Lucas wasted no time in saddling his horse. Griff on the other hand, still trying to catch his breath, realized he would be more of a hindrance to Lucas if he rode to town with him.

"Come on, Griff, we gotta get to the Sheriffs office!" Lucas urged.

"Go on, Lucas. I aint coming," Griff replied breathlessly.

For a moment Lucas thought Griff wanted to avoid the jailhouse for obvious reasons but the sight of his friend clutching his side in pain made him realize he was wrong. It was clear Griff was in no shape to ride and that seemed to be the real reason. "I can't leave ya here!"

"You have to. I'd only slow you down and you know it. Go on, get help!" Griff persisted.

Resigned to the fact that Griff was probably right, Lucas reluctantly relented and led his horse out of the stables. "Keep ya head down ya hear?"

"Don't I always?" Griff tried to make light of the situation.

Lucas gave the younger man a lopsided grin then climbed into the saddle.

* * *

Ben swallowed hard when he was jerked backward by Aaron.

"Levi, kill 'em!" Aaron ordered, shoving Mrs. Walters into a corner.

Ben was utterly shocked by the young cowboy's cold heartedness. "Now wait a minute. I did what you asked. Those men are just a couple of hired hands. They won't be of any trouble to you."

"Shut up old man!" Aaron pointed his gun in Ben's face then turned to Levi. "Do it."

Levi nodded obediently and left for the stables with his pistol drawn at the ready.

"No! You monster!" Mrs. Walters cried out. She stood shaking from head to toe.

"Shut her up!" Aaron hissed at Troy who had tried to keep his distance by shrinking into the shadows. "What're ya waitin' for?"

Troy hesitated before he moved forward, put a restraining arm around Mrs. Walters' shoulders and covered his hand over her mouth. "Please, be quiet. I don't wanna hurt ya," he said in a low voice.

Ben felt helpless as he stared down the barrel of the young man's gun and listened to Levi rush out through the front door.

* * *

Griff stepped out of the stables to watch his friend ride away when from the corner of his eye he saw a figure point his gun at Lucas's retreating back. With no time to warn his friend, he fought the panic rising in his chest and looked for something to use to disarm or distract the outlaw. An old metal bucket sat on the ground by the wall of the stables. He picked it up then hurled it will all his might at the gunman. The bucket found its mark and hit the man squarely in the shoulder. The gun was fired but the shot went wild and missed its intended target. Griff seized the precious moment and made his next move. He lunged forward and barrelled into the shooter.

Lucas instinctively lowered his head when he heard a shot then turned back in time to see Griff grappling with the gunman. Torn between desperately wanting to aid his friend and riding into town to get help, Lucas was forced to make a decision he prayed he would not regret. His gut told him it was what Griff would have wanted him to do but it didn't lessen the pain he felt when he was forced to make that choice. A choice that involved abandoning a friend.


	22. Chapter 21

_**AN: Another round of my heartfelt thanks to all my readers and reviewers. Good to see you back Kirsten and I hope this chapter does not disappoint!**_

 _ **Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers today!**_

* * *

 **Chapter 21**

Griff felt his strength beginning to wane the longer the struggle wore on. He knew he had to bring the fight to an end and soon. One advantage that came out of his time spent behind bars was learning how to win a fight at all costs, even if it meant doing it unfairly. Bringing his knee up hard and fast, Griff dealt his opponent a disabling blow between the legs, bringing him down to the ground. Next he bent down, gripped the man by the front of his shirt and smashed his fist into his adversary's face, knocking him unconscious. Still bent double with his hands on his knees to keep from collapsing, Griff took a moment or two to regroup and get some air back into his lungs. He racked his brains on what to do next. An idea hit him and though it wasn't the best of ideas, he didn't see any other option lying around. He needed to tie the intruder's hands and feet but he didn't want to leave the unconscious figure while he searched for some rope. Quickly untying the bandages from his wrists, he then turned the cowboy onto his front and bound his hands together. The task proved more difficult to accomplish when sharp pains flared through his own wrists but he ignored them as best he could. Once the man's hands were secured he used the other bandage to bind the ankles. Beads of sweat trickled down the side of Griff's face and he hastily wiped them with his arm. Now he needed to hide the prone body from his accomplices. The closest option was the barn. Turning the figure onto his back, he then hooked his hands under the man's arms and dragged him through the barn doors. The man started to stir much to Griff's horror. Bringing the neckerchief around the man's neck up to his face, he used it as a gag. He tightened the knot to secure it in place. With the gunman no longer a threat, Griff left the barn and secured the doors. As he turned to hurry to the main house, he noticed the outlaw's pistol lying in the dirt. A moment's hesitation passed before he made a choice and picked up the weapon. He checked to see how many bullets remained in the chamber. Three. Then he tucked it into the waist band of his pants and used the cover of the shadows to make his way to the house.

* * *

Inside the pantry of the main house, Joe stirred. Flashes of getting ambushed in his own home returned to him. More muffled sounds alerted him that he was not alone. The overwhelming darkness, however, made it impossible to see who was locked with him.

* * *

Aaron began pacing the floor, waiting for his accomplice to return.

"Where the hell is he?" Troy asked nervously.

"I dunno. But we're wastin' time!" Aaron snapped. He grabbed Ben by the arm and yanked him toward the safe. "Open it!" When the older man made no move to comply, he redirected his gun at Mrs. Walters. "Don't make me ask ya again or the lady's death will be on your hands!"

Ben pressed his lips together in a fine line and sighed heavily. He knelt down and started to turn the dial on the combination of the safe.

* * *

Griff kept his head down as he crept quickly past the windows and shimmied along the walls until he reached the back door. Leaning his head against the wooden surface he listened for the sounds of voices or footsteps but heard nothing. Drawing in an unsteady breath, he ducked down and slowly turned the handle. Pushing inward, he swore when the door refused to budge. He realized the bolt must be drawn from the inside, locking it in place. He would need to find another way. Looking around, he found a small window that opened out from the kitchen. He'd have to climb to get inside. Hoping it wasn't locked, Griff stepped up onto a wooden barrel leaning against the wall and made an attempt to open the window. To his relief, it swung inward. Gripping the frame for support, he pulled himself through the opening and dropped soundlessly to the floor below. His wrists gave a painful twinge and the impact of his landing sent a jarring pain through his torso. Using the counter for support he slowly straightened and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark room. He began feeling his way around the kitchen, occasionally bumping into obstacles. Perspiration ran freely down his face in thin rivulets and his heart hammered in his chest as he moved closer toward the sounds of a muffled struggle and thumps against a wooden surface. What little moonlight filtered through the window, he was able to make out the door to the pantry which was shut. Cautiously, Griff crept forward and reached out to unlock the door. Another thump made him jump. Nervously, the young hand fumbled to draw back the metal bolt then pulled open the door. In the same moment, a body barreled into him, knocking him off feet.

Joe's shoulder ploughed into the taller man's chest and they both fell heavily to the floor.

Unable to see the identity of his attacker, Griff swung his arm, catching his opponent clumsily in the ear.

Dazed, Joe rolled over onto his side. With his hands and feet still bound, he knew he was at a disadvantage. Added to that, his left ear was ringing.

Griff rose to his knees and crawled over to the form lying on the floor beside him. Recognition fell over his features when the faint light crossed over his adversary's face.

"Joe?" Griff rasped.

"Griff?" Joe gasped.

"Jesus, Joe! I coulda killed ya!" Griff said breathlessly. He hurried to help free his friend from the ropes binding him.

"Griff, I need ya to listen to me. Go get help. Fetch Clem and get him down here with some deputies real quick. Pa and Jamie and Mrs. Walters are in trouble."

"Lucas already took care of that. I'm staying right here. I can help."

"Alright but you keep your head down. I need you to get Jamie out of here. He should be in his room. Can you do that for me?"

Griff nodded and helped Joe to his feet.

"Sorry about that," Griff apologized, pointing to Joe's ear.

"Don't worry 'bout it. Just get to Jamie," Joe instructed urgently. Then remembering that Hop Sing and his kitchen helpers were still bound in the pantry, he gestured for Griff to lend him a hand. Together they freed the three Oriental men and ushered them out the back door with strict instructions to hide in the stables. Until they figured out how to best handle the situation without any bloodshed, Joe decided it would be safer for Hop Sing and his companions to hide rather than ride away. The last thing he wanted was for the gunmen to catch the three unarmed men making their escape. Once the kitchen staff were safely out of the way, together, Joe and Griff navigated their way to the dining room which was now empty although they could hear heated voices arguing nearby. Joe ushered Griff up the staircase. "Find Jamie and get him to the stables and wait for me," Joe whispered before flattening himself against the wall. He watched Griff silently taking the stairs then leaned his head back against the wall and took a deep breath. On the other side of the wall was his father, Mrs. Walters and the men who held them hostage. Joe knew he needed to figure out how many intruders he was dealing with and device a quick plan on how he was going to rescue his Pa and their guest. Without his pistol, he feared he was in over his head but what other choice was there?


	23. Chapter 22

_**AN: Again, thank you so much to all those who are reading my story and special thanks to those who had time to leave a review.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 22**

Arriving in town, Lucas reined in his horse outside the Sheriff's office. The beast's flanks were slick with sweat and its nostrils flared. Lucas was saddened seeing the animal in such a deteriorated state. He knew he'd ridden his mount harder than ever and risked killing it in the process but the lives of his friends and employer depended on him finding help and fast.

Tying the reins to the hitching post, Lucas then burst through the door of the sheriff's office and found Clem jumping to his feet, spilling coffee all over his lap and shirt.

"Lucas! What's going on?" Clem demanded.

"Trouble on the Ponderosa!" Lucas managed to blurt out breathlessly.

Clem didn't waste time asking questions. He placed his mug down on the desk, grabbed his hat and holster and followed the ranch hand out the front door. Seeing the state of Lucas's horse, he frowned. "Take Charlie's horse in the stable. Yours ain't gonna last the journey back."

Lucas nodded solemnly. "Clem, ain't ya gonna bring the cavalry?"

"How much trouble are we talkin' about here, Lucas?"

"I dunno, but Griff and I counted three horses in the barn. Ain't none of 'em were ours. And Mr. Cartwright sure wasn't himself. Even gave me a sign that he was in some kind of trouble," Lucas started to explain.

Clem frowned. "What about Joe?"

"Ain't no sign of 'im," Lucas shook his head.

The acting Sheriff was deeply troubled. If Ben was held against his will in his own home and maybe even Joe and young Jamie then things had to be bad. To top it off, the Cartwrights were providing sanctuary for an important witness to a crime. Clem did his math and realized there was one more person unaccounted for. "Where's Griff?"

Lucas heaved a sad sigh. "Well, one of 'em cowboys ran outta the house and started shootin'. Griff, he saved my life. But I had ta leave 'im behind. S'why we gotta hurry. He could be hurt!"

"I see. I'm sorry. I can round up some men but that's gonna take time and by the sounds of things, time is something we don't have a lot of. Look, I'll let the Marshall know. These men at the ranch could very well be the same ones McCoy and Howard are after. Besides, we could use the extra guns. I'll meet you at the stables."

The two men parted ways for the time being with Lucas heading for the public stables and Clem for the Hotel that McCoy was staying at.

* * *

Joe wasn't sure how successful his plan was going to be but it was better than doing nothing. The two young cow pokes were getting desperate and the leader of the gang was now threatening to harm poor Mrs. Walters if his Pa was going to take much longer to work through the combination of the safe. Joe scanned the area around him until his eyes rested on a small vase sitting on the table against the wall. He moved toward it, picked up the vase and threw it into the dining room. The fine bone china shattered into hundreds of pieces.

* * *

Aaron and Troy both turned their heads toward the sound of breaking china.

"Troy, check that out will ya? Could be Levi. He was always a clumsy oaf. And make sure those cooks are still locked up in the pantry. If any of 'em gives ya trouble, waste 'em," Aaron ordered. "Mrs. Walters, you best sit yourself in that chair and make yerself comfortable. Move it!"

Edith lowered herself into the chair and said a silent prayer. She held back the tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks.

"Why don't you let the lady go? You don't need her," Ben tried to reason with the criminal but all it did was earn him a back handed blow across the face, toppling him over onto his side.

Mrs. Walters flinched but remained stoically silent.

"Shut up and get that safe open, old man!" Aaron snapped.

* * *

Troy held his pistol out at arm's length as he walked out of the office and headed toward the dining room when rough hands caught him from behind and a fierce struggle ensued. Fists flew and the gun in Troy's hand clattered to the floor.

Joe landed a few good hits but also took a knee to the side and a fist to the same ear that Griff had struck earlier. Kneeling on one knee, Joe shook his head to clear the ringing once more but the next instant he heard the hammer pulled back on a revolver and when he looked up, he found himself staring down the barrel of the loaded gun.

* * *

Griff crept up the stairs, his hands clung to the banister to keep from losing his balance. When he reached the top landing, he groped the wall and felt his way to Jamie's room. As he felt the door frame beneath his fingers, he searched for the door handle and turned it. Walking into the room, Griff could hear Jamie's even breathing as he lay sound asleep. The blood loss, shock and medication clearly knocked the boy out. Griff leaned over the bed and gently shook the youngster's good shoulder trying to rouse him. "Jamie, wake up. Jamie?" He said in hushed whispers. "Come on, Jamie!"

The red-headed teen stirred and mumbled incoherently but remained in a stupor.

Not wanting to cause the younger boy any more pain than was necessary, Griff refrained from physically forcing Jamie to wake up. Instead, he retrieved the rag soaking in the bowl of water on the bedside table and wrung it over Jamie's face. This time, the youngster groaned and his eyes opened a crack. "Wh…Griff?"

"Sssh, listen, I need you to wake up for me, okay? I'll explain in a minute," Griff said, keeping his voice low enough to not be over heard by unwanted ears.

"What's goin' on?" Jamie propped himself up on one elbow and winced as he did.

"We gotta get outta here. Some men are in the house. They're armed and dangerous."

"What?" Jamie took a moment for the fogginess in his mind to clear. "What're ya talkin' about, Griff?"

"We need to get you to the stables. You'll be safe there. Just trust me, okay?" Griff had no time to explain everything and he hoped that Jamie would simply do as he was asked even if he couldn't comprehend what was going on. Grabbing Jamie's jacket from a chair nearby, he helped the boy get dressed. Once he had his boots on, Jamie groggily followed Griff out the door and down the stairs. Halfway down he tugged at the sleeve of Griff's shirt. "Where's Pa and Joe?"

"They're downstairs. Help's on the way. Now, come on," Griff urged.

"They're in trouble aren't they? We gotta help 'em!" As Jamie's mind registered the extent of the threat that shrouded over his home, his concern over the safety of his family grew in earnest.

"We will, but first we gotta get you outta here, okay?" Griff pressed his index finger on his lips and signalled for Jamie to keep quiet. They had reached the bottom of the stairs when the voices that met his ears made his heart sink. He held his arm out to keep Jamie from running headlong into the danger ahead.

* * *

Troy shoved Joe into the office, sending him sprawling to the floor.

"Well, well, well, here we are together at last. You should've run when you had the chance!" Aaron taunted as he watched Joe rise to his feet with his hands in the air.

Ben felt as if all the air was sucked out of the room when the sight of his son clambering to his feet entered his field of vision. Though he was relieved Joe was alive and appeared relatively unharmed, he didn't fancy his chances that his son's welfare will remain that way for much longer. With two people he cared about held at the mercy of the intruders, Ben feared things were about to get worse. All he could hope for was that Lucas and Griff made it to town and were on the way back to the ranch with help.


	24. Chapter 23

_**AN: A shorter chapter but I hope it doesn't disappoint. Thank you for reading.**_

 _ **My heartfelt thanks goes to honu59, Kirsten, Questfan and Keller12917 for their reviews on the last few chapters.**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

 **Chapter 23**

Marshall Slade McCoy listened with interest to the acting Sheriff as he briefed him in on the terror that was taking place on the Ponderosa. There was no doubt that Aaron was behind it. The problem was getting his troubled son out of it in one piece. _Damn fool boy!_ He cursed. Armed with his rifle, Mr. Howard followed McCoy and Clem to the stables to meet with Lucas. Together the four men set their differences aside and made haste on their journey to the ranch.

* * *

Griff's heart raced as he tried to think of a way to get Jamie past Ben Cartwright's office and out the back door unseen by the outlaws. As far as he could tell, there was only one way to ensure Jamie's freedom and that was to find a way to distract the gunmen. The catch was, _he_ would need to be the distraction. He turned his head and faced Jamie. "I'm gonna go in that room and when I do, you run as fast as you can out the back door, you hear? Don't look back. Just run and head for the trees. When you see Lucas and Clem, go to them!" Griff decided that given the boy's condition, he wasn't going to be able to run fast enough to make it to the stables without getting caught if his plan didn't work out. Jamie had a far better chance of surviving by hiding in the dark.

"What're you gonna do?" Jamie questioned worriedly.

"Never you mind. Just do as I say,"Griff firmly ended the conversation and signaled for Jamie to ready himself.

* * *

Joe swallowed hard as Troy pressed the barrel of his gun against his temple. He could feel the barrel quivering which meant the young man was nervous and a nervous man with a gun was a dangerous one. While Joe felt there was a chance he could talk the young man out of cold blooded murder, there was also the risk that the young criminal would pull the trigger unintentionally or out of fear. The fear of having gone so far, there was no way out. "You don't have to do this," Joe said in a low voice.

"Shut up," Troy ordered, using his other hand to keep the gun steady.

Ben started emptying the safe of money and family heirlooms that he did not wish to part with but nothing was as important as his son's life.

"Fellas, don't shoot, I'm unarmed," Griff announced, walking out of the shadows and blocking the doorway of the office. Behind him, Jamie quickly made his escape. "I wanna join your gang."

Aaron looked up suspiciously, his gun pointed at the ranch hand's chest. "What the hell do you think you're doin'? What did ya do to Levi?"

"Nothin'. He took off after Paul. Son of a gun left me behind!" Griff gave Ben and Joe looks of contempt to add some weight behind his words.

"You expect me to believe that, do ya?" Aaron spat.

"Believe what ya want. But like I said, I ain't got no love for the Cartwrights. I'm a prisoner here. See?" Griff held his wrists up, showing the men the bruises from the shackles.

"And what have you to offer, huh?" Aaron laughed drily.

"I know my way round these parts. That so-called friend of mine took off without me. I can get us outta here without any trouble," Griff offered. "Just let me ride with ya and a share of the money. I don't need much. Just enough to get me to the next town."

Aaron mulled the proposition over before accepting. "Alright, prove it. If you're telling the truth, you won't have a problem wasting them Cartwrights, starting with this one here," he pointed at Ben.

Griff's stomach plummeted. This wasn't what he had in mind. "Give me the gun and I'll do it."

"No, no, no guns for you," Aaron shook his head then picked up the silver letter opener from the desk and held it out to Griff. "Go on, cut his throat."

Griff took the letter opener from Aaron and started toward his employer who stood rooted to the spot.

Mrs. Walters could not believe what she was seeing. Not realizing this was a ruse, she yelled out, "No! Griff, don't!"

"It's alright, Edith," Ben held up a hand to silence Mrs. Walters then faced Griff. "I gave you a roof over your head and this is how you repay my kindness to you?" He said gruffly. He knew Griff did not mean what he said and that playing along would be in his best interests. Although, he had to admit, he wasn't quite sure what the young man had in mind.

Joe clenched his fists, ready to throw himself in harm's way if needs be. He silently prayed that Griff knew what he was doing. Mrs. Walters held her breath and gripped the arm rests of the chair until her knuckles were white.

Time seemed to be at a standstill.


	25. Chapter 24

_**AN: The last few chapters have just written themselves and I've been fortunate enough to fit them into my schedule. Thank you all for reading.**_

 _ **"Kirsten" and "Fergus" - thank you so much for your ongoing support. I'm glad you are both enjoying my story and the cliffies ;-)**_

 _ **Just a little note: if anyone spots anything that I should fix, please let me know in a PM or review. I've been posting really late at night and I work long hours in the day so I'm pretty sure I've made some boo boos and as my pattern for posting is unpredictable I chose not to use a beta for this.**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

 **Chapter 24**

Griff wasn't sure how long he'd been holding his breath for but the sound of horses approaching outside brought with it a feeling of immense relief and he finally released the stale air from his lungs. The room sprang back to life as everyone's ears tuned in to the new sound. For some, the sound carried hope while for others it was a death sentence waiting to befall them.

"Damn it!" Aaron swore. He raced to the window and drew back the curtain just enough to make out four riders dismounting and cautiously approaching the house at different angles. The young man knew he had to think fast. If they were going to face any hope of getting away it was now, when there was limited manpower to fight against. For all he knew a posse was not far behind. With the odds still against him and Troy, the rogue ranch hand's offer to help was suddenly beginning to sound welcoming. Since Levi was probably already lying dead on the road somewhere, Aaron figured it wouldn't hurt to recruit a replacement. Tearing himself away from the window, the outlaw met Griff's eye. "Alright, change of plans. We're getting outta here and you're gonna show us the way. Bring 'em with us. We'll use 'em as human shields. Once we're far enough away, we'll kill 'em."

"Ain't no skin off my back," Griff bluffed. Inwardly he was thanking his lucky stars. Now he had to try to communicate with Ben and Joe on how they were going to take these men down. The feel of the cool metal against his skin, reminded him of the weapon he was concealing beneath the loosely fitting shirt that Lucas had given him. If he could get to it, maybe he could put an end to the predicament they were in but it all came down to timing. He grasped Ben's shirt and pressed the tip of the letter opener against his neck. "Let's go, move it!" Then out of earshot, he leaned in and whispered, "Jamie's safe."

Ben gave the ranch hand a slight nod, wishing he could show him just how grateful he was that despite the odds the young man was able to think on his feet and for completely selfless reasons.

Troy shoved Joe ahead of him, his gun ready to shoot while Aaron yanked Mrs. Walters roughly to her feet. The trio of men hastily marched their hostages through the house and out the front door.

* * *

A safe distance away from the house, Jamie hid behind a cluster of trees. When he saw riders approaching, he waited until they were close enough for him make out who they were. The sight of Marshall McCoy and Mr. Howard was not one that brought him much comfort but when he saw Lucas and Deputy Clem Foster riding with them, he felt a rush of relief flooding through him. He jumped out of his hideout and waved the riders down, ignoring the pain shooting through his injured arm.

"Jamie!" Lucas called out.

"Stay with the boy. I'll go on with the Marshall and Mr. Howard," Clem instructed then rode away toward the main house.

Lucas dismounted from his horse and checked Jamie over, making sure he wasn't in any worse condition.

"I'm okay. We gotta go help the others!" Jamie started to pull away from Lucas.

"Whoa, hold on a minute! You're not goin' anywhere!" Lucas said firmly.

"Pa and Joe need us! And Griff and Mrs. Walters! We gotta go to them!" Jamie insisted.

"Griff? He's alive?" Lucas grabbed Jamie by his shoulders causing the latter to cry out as his wounded arm protested. Lucas apologized, relinquishing his hold. "Where is he?" He almost couldn't believe his own ears.

"They've got 'im. Lucas, we gotta help 'im. He helped me escape and now they've got 'im."

"It's alright, calm down. Look, I'll go get 'em. Stay here, understand?"

"But…"

"I mean it, Jamie Cartwright! Stay here!" Lucas ordered firmly. Then feeling guilty for his harshness, he ruffled the youngster's hair and gave him a reassuring smile. "It'll be alright, you'll see." He climbed back into his saddle and with one last look at Jamie he spurred his horse away.

Jamie sighed and watched as Lucas faded away into the distance.

* * *

When the riders reached the gates surrounding the Cartwright property, Clem suggested they fan out and hide at various vantage points. They needed to stay out of the line of fire but be able to get a good view of anyone exiting the house. Clem and Lucas moved toward the back while the Marshall and his associate took the front.

Quickly pulling Howard aside, McCoy said in a low voice, "I don't want my boy killed, you got that?"

"Whatever you say, Marshall," Howard complied. "What about King?"

"I think it's time Mr. King understands where he belongs."

"And the woman?"

McCoy was silent for a moment before he answered, "What can I say, Mr. Howard? Accidents happen."

"The Cartwrights? I know they're friends of yours and I'll respect that."

"They _were_. Regardless, blood is thicker than water. I'll sacrifice every Cartwright if it means saving my boy."

The two men separated and took their positions just as the front door burst open.


	26. Chapter 25

_**AN: I just wanted to t** **hank everyone for their generous feedback. I'll respond to PMs and reviews soon (I'm falling asleep on my keyboard right now). In the mean time get ready for a showdown on the Ponderosa...**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

 **Chapter 25**

Troy Johnson was first to rush out of the house with Joe held at gunpoint in front of him. Griff and Ben were next, followed by Aaron with Mrs. Walters.

"You're no killer, Troy, so why don't ya just put that gun away, huh?" Joe said in a low voice. Although he couldn't be certain if Troy had pulled the trigger on anyone before, the young man was likely to kill or be killed. If there was a chance to talk him out of doing something he'll later regret, Joe was going to take it.

"What would you know, rich boy?" Troy retorted.

From the corner of Joe's eye, he caught the flicker of movement in the shadows.

"That's far enough boys!" Deputy Clem Foster's voice boomed. He stepped out from the trees and held his gun in front of him. Lucas and Marshall McCoy also revealed themselves from their concealment.

Aaron fired the first shot, missing his mark when Mrs. Walters bravely stomped on her captor's foot then bit his hand. Caught off guard, Aaron released his hold on the woman.

Griff threw the letter opener aside, spun on his heel and pushed Mrs. Walters forward out of harm's way and into Ben Cartwright's arms.

Joe's reflexes kicked in when he turned his head and saw his window of opportunity. Troy's attention was diverted for the briefest of moments but that was all Joe needed. The rancher stepped forward, putting enough distance between them for him to spin around and kick the gun out of Troy's hand. The cowboy hesitated then made an attempt to retrieve his weapon just as Joe saw from the corner of his eye, McCoy point his pistol at the young man.

"Don't!" Joe called out, trying to stop Troy from making a fatal mistake but it was too late. A shot pierced the air and Troy cried out in pain as McCoy's bullet struck him in the belly. Sinking to his knees, the young outlaw curled in on himself, his hands clutching his stomach.

Griff's eyes met Aaron's and before Griff could so much as think, he pulled out Levi's gun from the waist band of his trousers just as the cowboy trained his own weapon on him.

With Mrs. Walters safely scooted aside by Ben and Troy no longer posing a threat to anyone, all eyes were on the two young men they now circled.

Neither Griff nor Aaron backed down from their stance.

"Damn you! I should've known better, you double-crossin'..." Aaron spat angrily.

"Alright, it's over! Put your guns down, both of you!" Clem ordered.

"Son, do as he says," McCoy joined in.

Aaron scoffed and laughed mirthlessly. "You haven't told 'em have you, Pa?"

A look of confusion and shock crossed everyone's faces, except for Mr. Howard.

"Slade?" Ben looked questioningly at his former friend.

McCoy heaved a tired sigh. "He's my son, Ben."

The revelation shocked the audience for how could the small mischievous boy they once knew grow into this malicious and calculated murderer? What went wrong?

Griff and Aaron drew back the hammer of their pistols, each ready to end the life of the other.

"Don't do it!" Clem warned.

"Or what? You gonna shoot me, Deputy?" Aaron mocked.

McCoy exchanged a quick look with Howard who raised his rifle and took aim right at Griff's chest.

By now the commotion had drawn the attention of the ranch hands from the bunk house and they started to file out to find out what was going on.

"If I have to, I will," Clem warned, keeping his gun leveled at the young outspoken cowboy.

McCoy looked around him and realized he was outnumbered and there was no way out for his son this time. But there was still a chance to break him out of the jailhouse before he faced the judge in court. There was no way he was going to watch his son hang. All he needed was for his boy to cooperate to avoid a sure death by a bullet.

"I'll get ya the best lawyer," McCoy promised.

"Sure, Pa, sure. Just like all those promises you made when ma died. Of course, it's because of you she ain't here no more. She took her own life because she couldn't stand you. Don't look so shocked! You know it's true," Aaron bitterly accused.

McCoy ground his teeth together. He felt as though he was losing control of the situation and his son. "Now is not the time or place, Son! Drop your gun!"

Griff's hand started to waver as the strain of keeping the gun steady became too much for his injured wrist. He used his other hand to keep the weapon still but he wasn't sure how much longer he was going to be able keep it up. "Mr. Cartwright…"

"Griff, just put your gun down. It's over," Ben gently urged. He knew Griff was within his rights to try to defend himself but for the sake of the boy's conscience and the circumstances surrounding Aaron's identity, he felt no desire to end the stand-off in any more bloodshed.

Afraid that Aaron would take the advantage and pull the trigger, Griff gripped the gun tighter. Perspiration ran down his forehead and brow. He tried to blink them away as droplets clouded his vision.

"Aaron, you'll get a fair trial; a chance to redeem yourself, just like Griff. It's your choice. For your sake, make the right one. The one your mother would have wanted you to choose," Ben tried his defuse the situation.

McCoy seethed when he heard Ben make a comparison between his son and King.

A slight nod was all Howard needed to see from the Marshall.

Lucas, who had been eyeing Howard, caught the exchange and lunged forward to place himself between his friend and would-be killer. "Griff!"

Aaron made it appear as if he were lowering his gun and just as Howard fired his Winchester, the young outlaw brought his pistol up and squeezed the trigger while Clem let loose two rounds from his Colt 45.

Amid the foray neither Joe nor Ben had time to react to the rapid succession of gun fire. Just as no one expected to see the red headed boy to appear out of no-where and barrel into Mr. Howard when he fired his shot.


	27. Chapter 26

**AN: Thanks as always for reading and offering feedback!**

 **Chapter 26**

An enraged Mr. Howard was a force to be reckoned with. The muscular man grabbed a fistful of the teenaged boy's shirt and lifted him off the ground as he rose to his feet.

Jamie gulped as Mr. Howard locked eyes with him and pushed him against a nearby tree, out of sight of the others.

"You best learn fast, boy, about not interfering with matters that don't concern you!" Mr. Howard threatened.

Jamie opened his mouth to speak in his defence but the words were caught in his throat and he remained silent.

Howard was satisfied to read the fear on young Jamie's face. With a sneer he pulled the boy forward and drove a knee into his side. He released his hold on Jamie and walked away.

Afraid and in pain Jamie slid to the ground clutching his side. With the wind knocked out of him, he was unable to draw any attention from his father who stood some distance away and had his back turned to him.

* * *

Griff crawled across the ground and shook Lucas by the shoulder. "Lucas?" He croaked. His friend lay unresponsive. A red stain started to spread on Lucas' shirt. "No, no, no. Lucas!"

Ben placed a hand on Griff's shoulder and gently pulled him away from the prone ranch hand.

A wave of dizziness washed over Griff. He fought to hang on to consciousness but was losing the battle. The last thing he saw was Mr. Cartwright's face looming over his.

"Griff? Stay with me," said Ben but it was no use. The battered ranch hand had already lost consciousness.

* * *

Marshall McCoy knelt down beside Aaron. His heart clenched when he saw two crimson stains in the middle of the young man's back where Clem Foster's bullets had penetrated. He reached out and slowly turned him over though a part of him already knew his son was no longer among the living. He swiped a hand over the young man's face, closing the lids over his vacant eyes. Swallowed by grief, McCoy covered a hand over his mouth and silently wept.

* * *

Joe and Clem addressed the ranch hands that had gathered.

"Tulsa and Frank, go get the Doc and bring him here!" Joe instructed. "Dave, George, help them get the horses ready. You'll find Hop Sing in the stables. Tell him it's safe to come back now. The rest of you, go back to sleep. Let's go."

The men who were told to return to the bunkhouse murmured amongst themselves as they slowly walked away.

Joe caught sight of Mr. Howard walking toward them. Fury pushed its way to the surface. Without a second's thought he took long purposeful strides toward the man then shot his arm forward and punched him in the face. The blow stunned Howard who relinquished his grip on his rifle and Joe hastily snatched it away. "That's for Griff!" He threw a second punch, catching Howard in the chin.

"Joe!" Clem pulled Joe away before he could inflict any more damage.

Spinning out of the deputy's grasp, Joe walked back angrily to where his father was examining Lucas.

"How is he, Pa?" Joe asked.

"Unconscious. He took a bullet to the shoulder," Ben replied, trying to piece together what had just happened. It appeared by all accounts that Aaron's bullet found Lucas who placed himself in harm's way to protect a friend and Aaron in turn was killed by Clem.

"And Griff?"

"Lucky to be alive."

A pain filled moan reached their ears and Joe hurried to the source of the sound. Troy lay on his side, bent double and in a great deal of distress. Joe crouched down and despite what the injured man had put his family through, he was able to find it in himself to feel sorry for him.

"H-hurts," Troy whimpered, his eyes watering. The pain was unbearable and though he wished for a reprieve from the agony, he was afraid to die. He lifted his head and looked up into Joe's eyes. "Please, please…help….help me…"

Joe sighed and eased the young man onto his back. "Easy, easy." He pried Troy's hands away from his stomach, tore his shirt to reveal the wound. It appeared to be serious and was bleeding profusely. Joe knew it was likely the boy was not going to make it but he didn't have the heart to tell him. "You're gonna be fine. Just hold still and keep the pressure on. Doc's on his way." Pressing Troy's hands over the wound, Joe rose to his feet and looked around. He had expected to see his younger brother nearby but he was nowhere to be seen.

As if Ben had read his son's mind, he called out, "Joe, have you seen Jamie?"


	28. Chapter 27

_**AN: Apologies for the delay in updating since my last post. Things got a bit too hectic in real life. Thank you so much to my readers and reviewers for continuing to show their support. We are approaching the end of this story (there's still one or two more chapters left) - I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I have writing it.**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

 **Chapter 27**

Joe carried out his search for Jamie, shouldering past Mr. Howard as he did. When he reached the cover of some trees near the property, he finally laid eyes on the teen who sat with his back leaning against a tree. "Jamie?"

"J..Joe..." Jamie stammered, unsure of whether he should tell him what happened. He tried to peer over his brother's shoulder to see if Howard was there and was relieved that Joe was alone.

"What's the matter? Are you alright?" Joe crouched down and laid a hand on Jamie's shoulder.

Jamie nodded then lowered his gaze.

Joe drew in a deep breath and forced it out again. "Alright, let's get you back to the house," he said. He helped Jamie to his feet. Giving the boy's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, he softened his tone, "How's your arm?"

"A little sore," Jamie mumbled, not meeting Joe's eyes.

The rest of the walk was spent in silence. Not that Joe didn't have plenty to say – he had plenty to say alright! But nothing directed at young Jamie.

As they walked toward the house they passed Mr. Howard who had just finished draping a blanket over the body of Aaron McCoy. Joe steered Jamie away from the brute, unbeknownst to him what Howard had done.

Too afraid of what Joe might do if he told him that Howard had struck him, Jamie pressed his lips together and took longer strides, ignoring the stabbing pain through his chest.

* * *

Meanwhile, Dave and George approached Clem with a bound and gagged Levi held between them.

"Found 'im in the barn," said Dave.

"Get 'im up on a horse. I'll bring him in," Clem said.

Ben, with some help from his kitchen staff and the ranch hands, carried the wounded into the house. He was relieved to see Joe taking Jamie up to his room, though he was concerned when he saw the red stain forming on his youngest son's arm. Trusting Jamie in Joe's care Ben returned his focus to the rest of the wounded men, in particular Lucas and Griff. While the former had regained consciousness and was in a considerable amount of pain, Griff was out cold and bleeding from what looked to be a head wound.

Mrs. Walters appeared by Ben's side who was visibly grateful when she offered to help care for the wounded while they waited for Doc to arrive. The ranch hands carried Griff and Lucas to the guest rooms as per Ben's instructions, however, there was nothing that could be done for the gravely wounded outlaw, Troy Johnson, who lost his young life before he could be moved.

Joe lit the lamp in Jamie's room and closed the door behind them. "Take off your shirt. Let's take a look at that arm."

Jamie complied and winced as he freed his injured arm from the sleeve.

Joe carefully unwrapped the bandage around his brother's arm and frowned at the stitches that had been torn, causing the wound to bleed anew. Folding the bandage to form a thick wad, he pressed it against the wound. Jamie cried out in pain and swayed where he stood.

"Whoah, easy there." Joe guided the boy to the bed and gestured for him to take a sit when he noticed a large bruise had begun to form on the left side of his younger brother's chest. "How'd this happen?" Joe questioned. He reached out and probed the area. His concern grew at the swelling beneath his touch and he suspected the boy had cracked at least a couple of ribs but how it happened, he didn't know.

Jamie flinched but remained as still as he could. He opened his mouth to answer but it was becoming increasing difficult to breathe.

"Just take small breaths, okay?" Joe coaxed. "Was it those men who broke into the house?" The bruising looked fresh and Joe couldn't think of any other way Jamie could've got hurt.

"No, it...it was Mr. Howard," Jamie finally said in a small voice. His eyes widened when caught the flash of anger pass over Joe's face. "You're not...you're not gonna do anything are ya, Joe? You're not gonna tell Pa, are you? Please don't tell him!" Jamie nervously pleaded.

"Hold this," Joe ordered, holding Jamie's hand on the wad of bandages over his arm.

"Joe? Joe!" Jamie's fingers latched onto Joe's arm when his brother started to turn for the door.

"Stay here," Joe instructed bluntly. He didn't mean to sound as if he were mad at Jamie but the rage he was suppressing was pushing its way to the surface.

"Where are ya goin'?" Jamie called out weakly.

"Just wait here, alright? And keep that pressure on," Joe repeated in a tight voice, prying Jamie's fingers from his arm. "I'm gonna get some clean bandages. I don't want you walking around until we get that bleeding stopped and your ribs wrapped. You got that, Jamie?"

Jamie nodded and released his hold on Joe's arm. He hoped that his brother wasn't going to act rashly and get himself into any trouble on his account. He also didn't want his father to have to deal with another problem. He had his hands full as it is. With a sigh, Jamie watched Joe disappear from sight.

* * *

Joe hurried downstairs to seek out Mr. Howard and give him a taste of his own medicine. He passed his father who called out his name but his voice sounded distant as he made a beeline for the stocky middle aged man standing at the doorway of his home.

Howard never had the chance to move or react as Joe barreled into him. The two men were sent sprawling out the front door and rolled in the dirt.

Clem, who was about to leave to take his prisoner into town, wheeled his horse around when he saw Joe and Mr. Howard wrestling on the ground.

Though Mr. Howard was larger in stature than Joe, the older man was caught by surprise and his opponent's motivation to win the fight was no match for hím. It wasn't long before Joe had the upper hand. He straddled Mr. Howard and laid his fists into every inch of the man with all the strength he could muster.

Ben raced outside and yelled, "Joseph!" Together with Clem's help, they pulled Joe off a stunned Mr. Howard.

"You're nothin' but a coward! Beatin' on kids. Why don't ya pick on a man, huh? Why don't ya hit me? Go on, get up, you coward and take your best shot!" Joe yelled himself hoarse and struggled to free himself from his father and Clem.

"Joseph, what is the meaning of this? Answer me!" Ben demanded. He held on to his son and searched his face for an answer.

"Why don't ya ask _him_ , Pa?" Joe said, never taking his eyes off Mr. Howard who was struggling to rise to his feet. "Or better yet, ask Jamie!"

Ben slowly relinquished his hold on Joe. His face blanched at the mention of his youngest son's name. He locked eyes with Howard and started toward him. "What did you do to my son?"

Howard let out a hollow laugh and wiped the blood from his mouth with his sleeve. "He was meddling in affairs that didn't concern him so I taught him a lesson!"

Marshall McCoy looked up from where he knelt by his son's body. "What have you done? You weren't supposed to lay a hand on him!"

The smirk faded from Howard's face. "Marshall, let's not forget we're in this together! It was you who wanted me to do whatever it took to clear your son's name! Don't you remember?"

McCoy was at a loss for words to defend himself. It was true, he would go to any lengths to protect his son, but he was rather fond of Jamie Cartwright. The boy didn't have an ounce of guile in him. He wished he could say that Jamie reminded him of Aaron when he was the same age but he couldn't. Aaron's air of innocence vanished when he was barely in his teens.

"Clem, I want that man charged!" Ben requested between clenched teeth.

Clem dismounted from his horse. "Ben, I'm gonna need some deputies if I'm gonna take two prisoners with me."

Ben was saved from assuming the responsibility when Tulsa, Frank and George put their hands up and volunteered to be deputized to escort the two prisoners into town.

Howard started to protest when the three newly deputized ranch hands disarmed him and Clem ordered him to mount up. "Get your filthy hands off me!" He sought out McCoy but the Marshall looked away guiltily and ignored his pleas and protests.

Had McCoy not been struck down with the loss of his only son, Ben would probably have questioned his methods when it came to enforcing the law. As it were, he pitied Slade and was saddened with the way things had turned out – not just because he lost a son but because he also lost their friendship. McCoy had lost far more than Ben did and there would be time to reflect on that. Now, all the aging rancher wanted to do was to see to his wounded son and to allow a man to grieve for his loss.

Everything else can wait.


	29. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Griff's eyelids fluttered open when the first rays of sunlight filtered through a gap in the curtains. He licked his dry lips which felt like they had swollen to the size of a very large pumpkin. His mouth felt parched as if someone had cruelly poured sand into it. All round, he felt wretched.

"Mornin'," Candy leaned forward in his chair with his hands clasped in front of him. His hair was dishevelled and his eyes were bloodshot.

"C..can...dy?" Griff croaked and lifted his head off the pillows though he wished he hadn't. A shooting pain ping-ponged through his skull. He shut his eyes again. Clearly all the adrenaline had left his body leaving behind in its wake nothing but unmerciful pain. He shifted uncomfortably in the bed which only served to reawaken the injuries to his torso. A tortured groan worked its way up his vocal chords.

"Easy, easy. Here, drink this," Candy said, bringing a glass of water to the younger man's lips with one hand and placing the other behind his shoulders to lift him up high enough to drink. "Not so fast!" he took the glass away when Griff started to choke.

Sinking back against the pillows, Griff felt like a herd of cattle had trampled all over his body. Looking up at the ceiling he couldn't help feel disappointed in himself for not being able to control the pain. Surely he had been subjected to worse beatings during his time in prison!

"Griff, are you still with me?" Candy asked worriedly.

"Yeah," Griff croaked. Another wave of pain stabbed through his skull. Suddenly memories of the tense shootout came rushing back to him. "Lucas!" his tried to sit up only to be pushed back down.

"Whoah, don't try to get up. He's gonna be alright, so don't you worry," Candy reassured. "You just rest easy. In a couple of weeks you'll be good as new."

"A couple of weeks?" Griff raised his eyebrows.

"It could have been a whole lot worse."

"Just a few bruises that's all. Nothing I can't handle," Griff scoffed.

"A few bruises?" Candy raised his eyebrows. "No, that's not all. You were shot."

'What?" Griff asked drowsily.

"You don't remember?" At Griff's blank look, Candy continued, "You were lucky Clem is pretty fast with a gun. Apparently the kid who shot you had already taken a bullet when he squeezed the trigger. Would've killed ya had he been able to get a clean shot. Bullet grazed your head there." Candy touched a spot above his brow. He could see that in Griff's groggy state, everything that had happened was still hazy but there was something he needed to say that had been sitting on his mind ever since he was made aware of it. Guilt played a big part on his conscience, despite what everyone else said. "Griff, why didn't you tell me about Howard before I left?"

"I didn't want you to stay because of me. Thought I could handle it on my own," Griff defended.

"There's no shame in asking for help. You're not alone anymore." Candy offered a small smile.

"I know that now don't I?" Griff said sarcastically.

"Yeah I guess you do. Just took some sense to be knocked into you for you to realize that. There are easier ways you know," Candy chuckled wearily, relieved that his friend had finally regained consciousness after more than a day had lapsed since the shoot-out on the Ponderosa.

Griff raised his hand and scratched at the itch on his temple. A thick bandage was wrapped around his head. He idly wondered why he hadn't noticed it earlier.

"How'd Lucas get hurt?" Griff tried to make sense of what happened before he lost consciousness but it hurt his head trying to piece it altogether on his own. The last things he could vaguely remember was Aaron McCoy pointing a pistol at him, then a blinding pain and the next thing he recalled was Lucas lying on the ground, unconscious.

"You can thank Mr. Howard for that," Candy said, failing to keep the traces of anger from his voice. "He was no doubt aiming for you but Lucas got in the way and Jamie, well, he tried to save the both of you. Earned himself a couple of cracked ribs for his troubles. He'll be alright but..."

"Jamie? He's just a kid!" Now it was Griff's turn to let loose his own feelings of contempt for the Marshall's associate.

"I don't think he cared too much for his age or yours for that matter. Wish I arrived sooner. Would've taught him a thing or two bout beatin' up kids. At least Joe got the chance to do just that before Clem took him away."

Griff felt his eye lids begin to droop and knew he wasn't going to be able to stay awake for much longer. He tried once more to raise himself up into a sitting position but his body felt too heavy to manoeuvre and every muscle ached the harder he pushed.

Candy placed a restraining hand on Griff's shoulder. "Don't even think about it. You're in no shape to be prancing around. Listen, I'm gonna go and get me some shut-eye but I'll be back later tonight after I take care of a few things. In the meantime, I'd feel a hell of a lot better if I can trust you to follow the doctor's orders. Can you do that?"

"Stay in bed and sleep? How long have I been out, Candy?"

"Long enough to have everyone worried. Now, seriously I need my sleep but I can't do that if you're gonna keep givin' me somethin' to worry about."

"I'm pretty tired so I'll behave," Griff smirked.

"Good," Candy said with a smile. Pushing himself out of the chair, he arched his back with a creak and stretched his aching muscles. He started to turn for the door when Griff's voice stopped him.

"Candy?"

"Hmm?"

"What's gonna happen to the Marshall?"

"Mr. Cartwright's sent a report to the Governor. It'll be up to him to take appropriate action. As for Mr. Howard, he'll be facing a judge tomorrow."

An uneasy thought entered Griff's mind. "Will I…will I have to go to court and testify?"

Candy knew just how uncomfortable his friend was when it came to dealing with the legal system and he understood the reasons behind it, particularly after recent events. As much as he wished Griff would get passed his insecurities, pushing him to make that change when he wasn't ready was only going to strengthen the wall he built around himself. Candy realized that now and he respected the fact that the young ex-con was going to need more time to adjust to a normal life. He turned his head back and replied, "No, buddy, you don't. There're enough witnesses and victims for the prosecution to get a conviction. Get some sleep."

Griff nodded and gave up the fight to stay awake. He still had some questions to ask but for now sleep was a welcoming escape from the pain that consciousness brought with it.


	30. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Dressed in black, Slade McCoy packed his bags ready for his journey back to Salt Lake City. What he was going to do with his life on his return, was a question he did not yet have an answer to. A knock on the door distracted him from his methodical task. "Door's open," he said brusquely. What he saw when he turned around made his blood begin to boil. "Whaddya want?"

"Slade, I didn't come here to fight," Ben Cartwright said. "I came here to return this. Jamie found it when we were cleaning out the guest room this morning." He held out a small photo frame that housed a portrait of a once happy family of three.

Slade's temper lowered a notch as he reached out and took the frame from his former friend. "How's the boy?"

"He's doin' fine, considering," Ben cleared his throat awkwardly. He was still rightfully mad at Slade for his part in the chaos that resulted in Jamie's injuries but he meant what he said. He wasn't looking for a fight.

"He's a good kid. You know, I never meant for him to get hurt." When Ben remained silent, he added, "Of course I don't expect you to believe me but…"

"Can you blame me after all that's happened?" Ben countered.

"I'm not condoning what Howard did, nor am I making excuses for my own mistakes but you of all people I expect to at least understand how much my son meant to me!" Slade's voice wavered as his emotions got the better of him. "You brought that convict into your home and you have the audacity to stand there and act like you are a saint!" He laughed mirthlessly.

"If you're referring to Griff King, he is not to blame for your son's actions. Now, I'm truly sorry for your loss, Slade, but the choices Aaron made are as much his own as the choices that Griff chose to make when I brought him to the Ponderosa."

McCoy's face reddened. "Don't you dare compare my son to that..that…" unable to continue he clamped his mouth shut. He'd just returned from his son's funeral and he wasn't prepared to deal with Ben's righteous lectures.

Ben sighed and lowered his tone. "Like I said, I didn't come here to argue."

McCoy looked down at the photograph in his hands. "I think you've said all there was needed to be said. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to finish packing."

Ben nodded and placed his hat back on his head.

* * *

Outside the hotel, Joe heard, rather than saw his father climb onto the cart. "Did you tell him about the report you sent to the Governor?"

"Now's not the time. The man just buried his son. Besides, I didn't send that report to punish Slade. I sent it because it was the right thing to do." Ben replied in a tone that said the conversation was over.

The remainder of the short journey back to the ranch was spent in silence. Joe knew that his father was angry and hurt that someone he had called a friend had brought harm to the people he cared about. He, on the other hand, found it difficult to feel anything but anger toward McCoy and for the sake of sparing his father's feelings, he refused to be in close proximity with the man in question. The cuts and bruises that were healing on the knuckles of both his hands were a stark reminder of what his temper could do and he was not about to disappoint his father again by losing control.

When they drew closer to the house, Joe and Ben's sombre moods brightened at the sight that greeted them. Another horse and cart was parked outside and it could only mean one thing

Hoss was home.

Joe pulled the cart to a halt behind Hoss's and jumped down to greet his brother who was up until that moment conversing with Hop Sing, or rather it sounded like a heated argument over dinner arrangements.

"Mr. Cartwright! Mr. Cartwright, you tell your son, there no more pork roast until next week! He not listen!" the Oriental cook waved his hands about in frustration then swore in his native tongue.

Ben pursed his lips, having learnt some of the language that Hop Sing spoke in.

"Hoss! Welcome back," Joe gave his brother a brief hug and received a crushing bear hold in return.

"Little brother, what's Hop Sing talkin bout that we ain't got no more pork roast?" Hoss asked in a serious tone.

"Is that all you can think about? Your stomach? You haven't even stepped foot inside the house yet!" Joe chuckled.

Ben similarly greeted his son just before the front door opened and out came Griff with Jamie in tow.

"Hoss!" Jamie ran up to his older brother but Joe held his arm out and stopped the youngster short.

"Whoah, hold it. Not such a good idea," Joe said in a low voice so that only Jamie could hear. The last thing they needed was for Hoss to unwittingly cause more damage to the boy's healing ribs.

Griff, having been a victim of Hoss's bone crushing hugs before, hung back and waved instead.

"Say, you two been fightin?" Hoss pointed his finger at Griff and Jamie in turn when he saw the bruises on Griff's face and the sling around Jamie's arm.

"No, but it's a long story and one I'm sure the boys would only be too happy to share. _Later_. Let's go inside and you can freshen up then you can tell us all about your time in San Francisco." Ben clapped a hand on Hoss's shoulder then steered him toward the front door.

Once his father disappeared inside the house, Joe said to Griff, "How's Lucas doin?"

"Getting' pampered by Mrs. Walters," Griff answered ruefully.

"That's what you get for pretending you're fine. You had your chance, Griff." Joe laughed.

"If he keeps it up, I might just give him an injury that's worth complaining about!" Griff joked.

Joe chuckled then turned his attention to his younger brother. "How's your arm, Jamie?"

"S'alright. Doc said I can take the sling off tomorrow," Jamie replied.

"That's great! You'll be able to catch up on your homework," said Joe a little too enthusiastically for Jamie's liking.

Jamie shared a look with Griff and rolled his eyes. He much preferred to read dime novels than doing his homework but he wasn't going to say that aloud to Joe and definitely not to their Pa.

Griff started to follow Joe and Jamie but stopped when a thought occurred to him. He'd been couped up inside the house over the past few days and overheard Candy mention to the Cartwrights how the guys at the bunkhouse had been asking about him. Now that he was back on his feet, he figured he owed them a visit. It also gave him an excuse to not have to recount everything that happened to Hoss.

"You alright, Griff?" Joe asked.

"Yeah, you go on ahead. I thought I'd go see the guys at the bunkhouse," said Griff.

"You know, Pa gave some of the guys a day off today so I'm sure they'd appreciate you droppin' by. Just be back for dinner or Hop Sing will have your hide!" Joe quipped.

"Oh I will, don't you worry," Griff said with a smirk.


	31. Epilogue

**Author's note to follow after this final installment!**

 **Epilogue**

When Griff opened the door to the bunkhouse, he was half expecting to receive the cold shoulder for not being forthcoming with his troubles and for avoiding them. He cleared his throat nervously and saw that Tulsa, Frank, George and even Lucas were there – the guys he was closest with and the ones he had taken for granted.

"Good ta see ya, Griff!" Tulsa greeted heartily.

Frank and George hopped down from their bunks and gave Griff a friendly slap on the back.

"Hey Griff, why don't ya pull up a chair and watch me beat Jake here," Lucas invited. He sat at the table opposite a red-headed ranch hand, named Jake. Between them on the table sat a checker board.

Griff's initial misgivings were laid to rest by the warm reception he received and he started to relax. "Alright, but I play the winner. Deal?" He proposed.

Frank, Tulsa and George enthusiastically agreed.

"You're on!" Lucas accepted the challenge.

A couple of rounds of checkers later, Griff decided to head back to the main house with Lucas accompanying him.

"How's the shoulder?" Griff asked, pointing at Lucas's sling as they walked slowly from the bunkhouse.

"Doc said that I won't be breakin' horses for at least a couple of months. Can ya believe that? Well, we'll see bout that!" Lucas scoffed. "What 'bout you?"

"My shoulder's fine, thank for askin'," Griff said with a smirk.

"Why, I oughta whoop ya! I still got one good arm and two healthy legs," Lucas jested and gave Griff a light kick in the backside.

"Hey, watch it. I'm still a wounded man."

"Wounded? Just you wait and I'll give you a wound! Seriously, how're ya doin'?"

For a moment Griff was going to brush it off with a lie but when he met Lucas's gaze, he changed course. His lies had nearly cost him a good friend. Lucas deserved more. With a small sigh, Griff answered as honestly as he could, "Still a little sore but the morning headaches are almost gone and I don't feel like throwin' up no more, which I'm real glad about." Pausing, Griff absently rubbed his midsection and winced.

Lucas nodded. He was well aware of the injuries that his friend had sustained and how well he had been foolishly hiding the pain until one morning when he found Griff sitting on the floor with his back against wall and his knees drawn up to his chest. Even then he tried to dismiss it but Lucas wasn't fooled. The younger man's head injuries from the beating and the shooting had made him very nauseous. What made it worse was the bruising to his ribs and stomach. Every time Griff threw up, he was in agony and the strain on his bruised muscles made it difficult for his body to heal. Of course, even then, Griff insisted he was fine. Unbeknownst to him, Lucas had told Mr. Cartwright about the younger man suffering in silence. So it was a blessing that Mrs. Walters happened to be in the room at the time and offered to brew some special tea to ease symptoms of nausea. Griff, of course, had no idea that one of the reasons why he wasn't throwing up anymore was because of the tea.

Lucas knew Griff still had a long way to go when it came to trusting people and letting them help him when he needed it but now as they walked to the main house together, he could see a definite change in him. It may be just a small one but he had faith that he'll get there one day. A smile spread across his face. "You're gonna alright, Griff." He gave his friend a pat on the back and changed the subject to that of a wager they had placed on whether or not Candy was up to the task of breaking in Tornado. Lucas was confident Candy had the experience to handle the rightly named horse but Griff was leaning against the foreman's age. Everyone was made aware of the friendly wager they had placed with the exception of Candy and they intended on keeping it that way. That was, until the front door opened and Candy pointed an accusatory finger at Griff.

"You!"

Griff feigned innocence, placed a hand over his heart and mouthed, "Me?"

"Yes, you."

Griff and Lucas exchanges glances and simultaneously said one name, "Joe!"

It came as no big surprise that the only person who could possibly fail in keeping their secret a secret was none other than Joe Cartwright and they could see that they were right when his apologetic face peered behind Candy's shoulders just before he conveniently disappeared from sight.

 **END**

 **AN: That's all folks :-) I just wanted to say a heartfelt thanks to all of my readers who have followed through this story until the end. I hope you were left feeling that it was worth the read considering the infrequent updates mid-way in.**

 **Those who had time to leave me a review, thank you so, so much. I really appreciate the feedback.**

 **Last but not least, this story is the first of a trilogy I am planning to on write. Unfortunately these "plans" aren't set in stone so I can't promise that they will get written but I would very much like to. I'll be relying on a cooperative muse and free time (which is hard to come by).**

 **Until next time...**

 **Take care and thanks again.**


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